Changing Tides
by mortenavida
Summary: After Stane's death, Harry has come to terms with fully immersing himself into Tony Stark's new life. When that starts to involve Norse Gods, Super Soldiers, and a man that can turn into a large, angry troll… well, he starts to question what he's doing. It doesn't help that he's dying. [Sequel to An Iron Magic]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Same author's note/warning/whatever as before because, hey, it's still true. Here's Chapter one! It's short, but mostly just a set-up chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

It started on a miniature vacation in Monaco nearly a year after Stane was killed. Harry had gotten into his company's racecar because stupid stunts brought money (and _that_ started with his "I am Iron Man" statement). He needed that money for suits as well as new bows that he would never admit he was messing with as gifts for Clint. Then, in the middle of the damn race, a man wearing a mockery of his suit had to fuck up his day.

Monaco was not Harry's favorite city after that. Hermione and Neville had almost gotten killed while they got his portable suit out to him (he needed to find a way to have it just _come_ to him like in _Nightrider_). The local authorities didn't want him talking to the man who did it, but Harry had insisted and threatened until they let him walk, alone, into the cell that held the son of the man who helped Howard create the arc reactor.

Well, it at least explained a few things about the (embarrassingly) better reactor the man had.

Still, the last thing he needed was for someone to come and make him look like an ass. Two days before, Harry had defended himself in front of a bunch of military suits about how nobody in the world was up to his level with an Iron Man suit. Jarvis and Edwin helped find footage and Blaise had done his best to deflect questions on the official report of the suit. In the end, Harry had simply given up, pushed the arrogance he had come to accept out, and simply gave the panel of idiots his middle finger. More elegantly than just raising his fist, but he still did it.

Now he was staring at the man who could put him back into that court subpoena hearing in seconds and Harry didn't like that. He might as well get straight to the point.

"Where'd you get the designs?" Harry wandered around the room until he could look at the man in the face. "Vanko, right? Your father help you?"

The man laughed, giving Harry a nod. Finally, something other than a blank stare. "You come from a family of thieves and butchers." That had stung and Harry was proud of himself for not flinching. "You forget all the lives the Stark family has destroyed. My father is the reason you're alive."

He looked right at Harry's chest and _damn_ that made him uncomfortable. Harry scowled at him. "No, the reason I'm alive is because you missed a shot."

Vanko laughed, sending a chill down Harry's spine. "If you could make God bleed, people would cease to believe in him."

"Good thing I'm not God. Enjoy your prison cell." Harry pulled his coat tighter around himself and headed for the door.

"Hey, Tony, before you go…" Harry hesitated, hand on the door. "Palladium in the chest. Painful way to die."

Harry wasn't sure what kind of messed up warning that was, but he didn't like it. He left the room, slamming the door as he went. The lights flickered a bit and he took a deep breath to calm himself so his magic didn't explode anything around them. He had to make a phone call.

As soon as he was out of the building, Harry ignored Clint's seven missed calls and dialed Blaise's number. His friend had to stay behind in California to take care of some military-whatever, but Harry knew he would take care of this.

"_Are you okay_?" was the first thing Blaise said as the phone picked up. "_That wreck was all over the news. Don't worry about the Senators, I got that covered_."

Harry smiled, relaxing as he settled into a rental car next to Hermione. She motioned for him to turn the speaker on and he did, letting all three of them listen. "I'm fine, just a few scrapes and bruises. Really, nothing Miranda can't fix."

While they had all adapted to the reactor in Harry's chest, they still only trusted Miranda, the woman who healed Harry after Afghanistan, to deal with anything medical. Sure, Harry had at least ten back-up reactors just in case (Clint carried one on him at all times – he insisted), but they didn't want to needlessly waste them.

"_Good,_" Blaise said. "_You need me to do anything, Tony_?"

"Do you want me to wait until you're not around people to tell you?"

Blaise hesitated. "_Yeah, okay. Hold on, just let me…_"

Neville looked back at Harry from the rear-view mirror. "Want me to call Miranda?"

Harry nodded just as Blaise said, "_Yeah, do that, Nev. I'd send a message, but there's just too many people around. I'm okay to talk now, though._"

"I don't trust Vanko," Harry told him.

"The man who attacked him," Hermione supplied. "His name is Ivan Vanko and his father helped Howard Stark design the arc reactor. He was—"

"_Just send me the information. I love hearing your talk, Hermione, but I don't have a lot of uninterrupted time._"

Hermione looked upset for a moment before shrugging and going to her own phone. "I'll have Edwin send you everything. He and Jarvis did a search as soon as the attack started apparently."

"_Love that man. He made me chocolate pie last night_."

"Traitor," Neville muttered.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Yes, we all know Edwin loves Blaise more. Back to Vanko now?"

"_Please_."

Harry let out a breath and turned to stare out the window. He didn't want see Hermione's face when he asked this. "I want you to take care of him. I don't trust that the prison systems here will … deal with him and I'd rather not have this whole thing bite me in the ass."

"You think he'd try to break out?" Hermione asked. Harry was glad that she wasn't outright voting against the idea.

"He's supposed to be a certified genius," Neville said. "At least, according to Edwin. Something about being on par with the real Tony Stark while growing up."

Harry pressed a hand to his reactor, remembering the warning Vanko gave him. _Palladium in the chest. Painful way to die._ He wasn't sure how true that was, so he decided to keep it to himself for now. He'd research it on his own and hope that nobody else found out, especially Hermione. Miranda, maybe, because she could attempt to get the shrapnel out of his chest again, but Harry wanted a back-up plan. He'd need to start looking in on the elements and see what could be replaced.

"_…need to make an excuse to be out of town for a few days. Harry, where did you say Clint was_?"

Harry pulled himself back into the conversation. "Ah, I don't know. He and Agent Coulson left about two months ago and didn't tell me where. I figured it was classified."

"_I'll make something up._"

Harry snorted. "Hello, injured best friend here. What better excuse do you need?"

"_They'll roll their eyes and tell me to get back to work if I try to give them the 'Tony Stark needs me' excuse. You know they don't care, not since you took away their weapons._"

"They're just mad they have to deal with Hammer Tech," Hermione said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not an expert at weaponry of war, but his does seem to break easier."

"He lacks the funds. Edwin told me something about Hammer getting fired from Stark and taking his rejected ideas with him. Stane was running the place at the time, so I don't know what happened, but he seems to think I did it."

"You haven't been CEO for a year. Why doesn't he go after me?"

Harry grinned and lifted Hermione's hand, kissing the back of it. "Because he's too scared to go against you, Miss Pepper Potts."

Hermione wrinkled her nose, pulling her hand out of Harry's grip. "I'm not one of your cover girls, Mister Tony Stark."

"_Doesn't stop the press from insinuating it_," Blaise said. Harry could hear the grin in his voice. "_Not that it makes sense…_"

"Yes, we all know that you are dating my CEO. Shut up, Blaise."

Blaise laughed. "_As long as we know the truth, that's all that matters. I need to get back, but trust me… I'll take care of Vanko. Guy reminds me of the Carrows_."

Neville shuddered and Harry pushed on, knowing that his friend didn't want to remember that. "Thanks, Blaise. Let me know when it's done."

"_Will do. I'll see you guys at home_."

Harry shut off his phone and turned to Hermione. "I thought you'd object to me asking that."

"If he didn't try to take _my_ head off as well, I might have objected."

"I'm hurt," Harry teased. "Only caring about yourself."

"Yes, well, I didn't want Blaise to kill you because you couldn't put your stupid suit on fast enough." She grinned. "See? I care about you."

"In a roundabout way, yeah."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm just glad you're safe, Harry."

Harry smiled a little and leaned over to rest his head on Hermione's shoulder. "Me, too. Remind me to make a suit that shows up when I want it to."

Hermione groaned and shoved Harry off of her. "Next you're going to want one that crawls out of your skin."

"Well…"

"_No_, Harry."

Harry sighed playfully and settled back into his seat. "Fine, no internal suit for now."

"Thank god," Neville said. "It's already hard enough to carry you when you pretend to be drunk in the streets.'

"_One time_," Harry hissed. "That was one time to prove a point to Clint."

Neville waved him off. "Yeah, sure, which is why Clint was right there with you."

Harry groaned and covered his face, if only to hide his smile. Things weren't perfect as Tony Stark, and he still had things he didn't want to do, but he was finally enjoying himself. The stupid stunts the board wanted him to do were ridiculous, but it got the company a wider audience (and how that worked, Harry didn't want to know) and kept them in the news. It helped take care of the deficit stopping the weapons caused.

Driving his own company-controlled race car had just been one thing on the list of "crazy acts Tony Stark could do." He already skydived to test out the suitcase armor (thankfully already tested before he pulled that trick). The military let him have a dog fight in midair with what they claimed to be their best pilots (Harry won). Other countries had tried to get him to come over and crash random parties (Clint convinced him once, but Harry never did it again after that).

Then there was the Stark Expo, the first one since Howard died. It was originally supposed to last an entire year, but Harry cut it down to three months just so he wouldn't have to deal with it as long. Besides, that way he made it a twenty-four-hour party and the board just considered that another reckless, but profitable move. More people were willing to stay in the area three months, compared to a full year.

They would return to the states just in time to start that off and, really, part of Harry couldn't wait.

* * *

I had this mostly written since July. JULY. I added a few things to let it line up with _An Iron Magic_, but yeah. This has been here for months, guys. Also, if you don't live in America and want to know what the Director's Commentary on _The Avengers_ says (and damn is it hilarious – love Joss), let me know. I recorded it for tumblr and can send you the link.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: You guys, I am completely floored. I have never woken up to over 300 messages in my fiction inbox ever! It was exactly what I needed, too, so thank you. I appreciate ALL of you so much!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Harry was happy when he walked into the Malibu home, immediately pulling at his tie to get it off. "Jarvis, locations?"

"_Mister Rhodes did not return home yesterday. Edwin has been informed of your arrival and is finishing lunch in the kitchen._"

"Thank you, Jarvis." Harry looked back to Hermione and smiled. "Go get some rest. I know you didn't sleep at all on the way home."

"That's because there was an issue with the release of the new phones." Hermione rubbed Harry's arm before walking past him. "By the way, Miranda should be here by dinner. Since you seemed okay, she decided to finish out her shift."

"That's fine." Harry shrugged off his jacket and tossed it and his tie toward the couch. "I'll be sure to get you up."

"Thanks."

He watched her walk toward her room with a small smile before disappearing into the kitchen. No matter how many times he saw it, the image of Edwin in a pastel-colored apron brought a smile to his face. Today, it was green and had small frills around the edges.

"What happened with the blue one you liked so much?" he asked as he leaned against the counter. "You swore you'd never let that one go."

"Your friend attempted cooking while you were gone and he burned it." Edwin handed Harry a plate. "I was quite displeased with him."

"Yet you still made him a pie?"

Edwin smiled and took his own plate to the nearby breakfast bar. "I did no such thing. I bought it from that market in town."

"You sneaky bastard." Harry settled next to him, stabbing at what looked like an omelet sandwich. "This isn't store-bought, right?"

"As if I would do that to you." Edwin shook his head and settled into his meal.

Harry laughed and followed suit, letting himself enjoy the egg whatever-it-was. He really didn't care, as long as Edwin made it. Once Edwin found out what he did and didn't like, meals had gotten almost better than Hogwarts. Harry had given him a pay raise. Whether Edwin noticed and hadn't mentioned it, or didn't notice at all, Harry didn't know. He _did_ know that the meals just kept getting better.

"Your Expo begins in…?"

"Four days." Harry wiped at his mouth before dropping his napkin onto his plate and pushing it away. "But you knew that, so why the question?"

Edwin ran his hand over the bar, bringing up a news feed. Harry still loved that little invention. "Because I recognize this face."

Harry leaned over to see an image of himself right after he talked to Vanko and before he called Blaise. "I recognize it, too. That's my face."

"That's your thinking face." Edwin waved a hand and the image disappeared. "What idea do you have?"

"I can't do anything until Miranda checks me over."

"But?"

Harry grinned and activated the counter again. "Jarvis? You know the file."

He had started to work on the idea for a suit that came to him during the trip home. At least, he had tried before he fell asleep. There were just basic sketches for now and he hoped that Edwin would help him with the more difficult mechanics of this, mostly because he was still paranoid.

When the images flickered onto the bar, Harry placed his hand down on the image and pulled it up to bring it into a 3D model. The lines were worse when he looked at it like this, but it would be ultimately better.

"I figured we could start with the suitcase and see if that could move on its own."

Edwin reached forward to turn the image around. "That's a good start, but it may be too small. It needs its own power source, after all."

"What about something like a battery?"

"Sure, until you want it to travel halfway around the world." Edwin shrugged. "You still have the prototype of the suitcase, so we can go ahead and try with that."

"That prototype doesn't extend past my upper body." Harry poked a few things and sighed. "But yeah, might as well not waste the tech."

"I still say that you need to look at that first one more. You could very well fix it."

"Maybe." Harry pushed the image down and twisted his hand, the signal to turn it off.

"Harry?"

It wasn't often Edwin called him by that name and Harry turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

He smiled softly, looking away from Edwin. "As okay as I can be. A man came out and tried to kill me. Can't say it was the first time, and I have a feeling it won't be the last."

"Is that why your friend hasn't returned home yet?" Edwin stood and took the plates to the sink. "I can only assume that your SHIELD friends are still busy with their own project."

"Yes, that's why he isn't here. I asked him to take care of it."

"Do I want to know how he's doing that?"

Harry shook his head and patted Edwin's shoulder. "No, you probably don't. Hell, I don't think _I_ want to know."

"Then I shall refrain from asking questions when he returns." Edwin smiled and waved Harry off. "Go relax until Miranda arrives. Or, if you can't relax, write your introduction speech for the Expo. They've been waiting for it for days now."

"Work, work, work…"

"I believe that's what Miss Potts does, sir."

Harry laughed and grabbed a coke from the refrigerator before settling himself on the couch. "Put on a movie, Jarvis. Don't care which one."

"_Sir, might I recommend something from Agent Barton's personal favorites_?"

"Might as well since he keeps bugging me to watch them all." Harry grabbed a nearby tablet and started it up so he could jump on the speech. He didn't know what to say and he figured Hermione would write it for him eventually, but he could at least say he tried.

An hour later, full engrossed in _Robin Hood: Men In Tights_, Harry had nothing but 'welcome to the expo' written. It made since that Clint would like some ridiculous movie about an archer, but Harry could see why. It was funny and had him holding back his laughter more than once. He didn't want to wake up Hermione or bother the other two (who knew what Neville and Edwin were up to), but it was difficult to hold it in.

He would need to remember the ridiculous song the next time he saw Clint in his uniform. Sure, Harry might get a suction-cup type arrow attached to his suit, but it would be worth it if only to see Clint argue about how they were _tights_, but _fight-ready pants_. Yeah, sure. Harry went ahead and ordered a pair of green ones just to see his reaction.

Miranda showed up just as the credits began to scroll across the screen. She rolled her eyes and simply settled down next to him, wand already out and working.

"I saw your scrape on television. You're lucky he didn't fry you."

Harry shrugged, holding out his arm when she pulled at it. "It just powered the suit more, honestly. It felt a little awkward, but I got through it."

"Have you checked—"

"Yes, and nothing's changed." Harry rubbed the spot above the reactor in his chest. The shrapnel was still there, but anything Vanko did hadn't made things worse. At least, nothing as bad as Stane had done. "That's fine."

"So it's just the rest of you."

Harry smiled and stopped his hand. "Yeah, just the typical blood loss when it comes to fighting something. This one just happened to find me instead of the other way around."

"Let's try to avoid both for a few days, hm?" Miranda waved her wand a bit more before passing Harry a potion. "Drink up."

"Ugh, potions." Harry took it and downed the vial taste of piss in one gulp.

"You baby." Miranda patted his head and stood. "If that will be all, then?"

Harry hesitated, then figured it couldn't hurt to ask. "Do you know anything about Palladium and its effects?"

"Can't say I do, sorry." She frowned and sat back down. "What's wrong?"

There were a lot of wrong things. "Nothing, just doing some research on it. You know, effect on the human body…"

Her eye flickered to his chest. "I see… Well, I don't know anything right now, but I'll look into it."

Harry offered her a smile. "Thanks, Miranda. And I'd appreciate it if you kept this quiet…"

"You have my word." Miranda returned the smile and then got up to leave.

Harry waited until she had completely left the room before reaching under his shirt and preparing himself for pain. If he did this fast enough, he wouldn't feel anything. The reactor would still be close enough to his body, after all, so the metal wouldn't move that much. Still, he counted to three before twisting and pulled the reactor from his chest.

Yeah, okay, it _did_ hurt, but Harry completely forgot about his pain as soon as the piece came out from under his shirt. From a distance, everything seemed normal. As soon as he got a closer look at the core, he swore softly. Instead of a smooth, slightly-rounded edge, it was hard and slightly crusted with something.

Something that was in his _body_.

"Well, shit…"

Now what was he supposed to do?

* * *

So a quick note: Coulson does not know the truth behind Harry. He still thinks he's Tony Stark (and I apologize if you don't find that believable). I think Coulson in the fandom has become more than what he should be and while I adore a badass Son of Coul, he's still human. And if Nick Fury doesn't want to tell him something, Coulson will never know it. This is important (to this for now) because I love tension between Clint and Coulson just as much as I love them being close. Natasha will find out sooner than Coulson, if only because she will be closer to Harry before the Big Reveal. This was mostly going to be explained in a side story (that takes place in _Thor_), but I wasn't sure when I'd get down to posting that (I want to post it close to when that actually happens as to not spoil anyone).


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: I realized I said "Milan" instead of "Monaco" in the first chapter – sorry! That's been fixed.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Clint returned before Blaise and Harry really wasn't sure whether or not it was a good or a bad thing. He was in the workshop, smoothing out a few plans for his prototype, when the lab door opened and an arrow with a sandwich attached to the tip embedded itself in the desk.

"There are better ways of delivering me food," he said, carefully peeling the ham and cheese away from the arrow. "And you owe me a new desk, now."

"Come on, I made sure not to hit anywhere the pretty screens come out of."

Harry didn't want to admit that Clint was right, so he took a bit out of the sandwich instead.

Clint hopped up onto the desk, getting comfortable in his new seat before pulling the arrow out. "So… Pepper isn't talking to you."

"She's mad that I didn't get her up while Miranda was here." Harry shrugged and stuffed the rest of the sandwich in his mouth.

"Your doc?" Clint reached forward and pokes at Harry's head. "I don't see any scrapes on you."

"That's the point of Miranda, Clint. She makes sure I don't have any scars." Harry leaned away from him. "I thought you'd be at base longer."

"The Director figured I had more important things to deal with." Clint frowned and stuffed the arrow back where it belonged. "You didn't return my calls."

"I don't—"

"Stop being an ass. Why didn't you let me know you were fine?"

Harry pushed at the floor with his feet so the chair rocked. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he didn't call Clint back. Sure, he had gotten into lesser scrapes before and instantly called Clint to brag. He had also gotten into worse and called Clint to compare battle scars. But he had never, in the year that they had been friends, ignored him. This was new territory for both of them.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I thought you were on a tight mission?"

"A voice mail doesn't hurt." Clint leaned forward, resting the back of his hand on Harry's forehead. "You don't seem sick."

Harry batted the hand away. "Quit it. Maybe I just wanted to go home and sleep."

"And not brag about how you brought down someone using those kinds of whips?" Clint scoffed. "Please, try again."

"I can't distract you with a bow?"

Clint's eyes lit up and, for a second, Harry thought he had won. However, Clint quickly schooled his expression and crossed his arms. "Not cool."

"Later, then. When it's actually finished and I sort of test it."

Clint pointed his finger at Harry. "No untested weapons! It might come out backwards and I'd shoot myself instead."

"Oh, Clint, don't lie. You could shoot wildly in the air and the arrow would still hit the target a mile away." It was pretty scary how often Clint would hit the center of a target and _still_ tell Harry that it wasn't good enough, that it had to be better.

"Stop trying to stroke my ego and get on with it." Clint shifted forward so he could dangle his feet off the front edge of the desk.

"I guess I just got to thinking," Harry admitted. "About Vanko and the hatred he had."

"Ivan Vanko, the Russian scientist? We were watching his father until he died."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should have watched him, too." Harry rubbed at his eyes. "He's smart, probably more so than I'm supposed to be. It's just a shame to see all that talent wasted in someone so angry."

"When you work around SHIELD," Clint said slowly, "you get used to seeing that. People waste their talents all the time."

"You don't."

"That's because I got recruited as soon as they found me." Clint shrugged. "You know, it's not just who you are, but where you come from."

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it. "You really think so?"

"Of course. If Vanko had been born on U.S. soil like his father wanted, do you think he would have become a criminal? Would he have attacked you?"

Would Harry still have saved the entire wizarding world had he not grown up abused and unloved? Hell if he knew the answer. He would like to think that he would, but he just didn't know. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Did you know what happened to Vanko's father?" Harry shook his head, so Clint continued. "He was deported by Howard Stark because they had different business views. Howard didn't like where Anton was going with a few of the business deals, so he pulled strings and sent him off."

Harry frowned, trying to recall if he had seen that particular memory or if it was stored in the pensive still. "So Vanko was getting revenge on the Stark family."

"By attacking the only one left alive. At least, that's how Coulson saw it. He talked my ear off while we were on our way back."

"He doesn't seem like one to talk."

"Get him on a tangent about something he likes and he'll never shut up. That man loves information and, when I asked about what happened, he wouldn't stop."

"Well, none of this really matters." Harry stood and rubbed at his chest, trying not to wince. Now that he knew he had a build up in the reactor, it felt as if it stung more than usual. "Does it?"

"I don't know, Tony. Do you think that if he had your opportunities, _all_ of your opportunities, that he would have still done it? If your father hadn't extracted his father, would he have grown up with so much hatred?"

"Didn't you already ask me that?"

"Maybe." Clint slid off the desk and followed Harry around. "You didn't exactly answer me before."

"And I won't answer you now because I don't know." Harry opened the cabinet where he kept the other reactors, frowning at them. Maybe he could just remake the core, find a way to easily pull that out and replace it when it got too bad.

Clint sighed and came up behind him. "What are you doing, Tony?"

"I can't stare at life-saving devices and think?" Harry shut the cabinet door. "Clint, go take a shower and get some sleep. Rhodey should be coming back eventually and I need to talk to him."

"Is that your polite way of saying 'fuck off, Clint, and leave me alone'?"

Harry just smiled, not needing to actually say that yes, it was. Clint threw up his hands with a sigh and backed toward the door.

"Whatever, I get it. We doing dinner tonight?"

"Same time. If you have a special request, tell Edwin if you see him, Jarvis if you don't."

"See you then." Clint grabbed one of the tablets that rested on the desk before disappearing upstairs.

Harry rolled his eyes at the theft, not really worried about it. As soon as Clint turned it on, he would notice it didn't work. Mainly because that was just the outer casing – Harry had taken out the guts of the machine earlier to poke at it and see if he could do better than Apple or Samsung or whoever else out there. He had already made most of the tech 3D if you could afford it, but he was proud that his screens (so far) rated the most durable and reliable.

He opened the cabinet once more with the reactors and frowned, knowing that he was on his own. He pulled one out and figured he might as well put it in and hope that it took another year for the new one to corrode. Optimistic was usually never his forte, but he had grown more into accepting it lately.

Harry just managed to press the new reactor into his chest when Jarvis informed him of Blaise's arrival. He turned to the door just as his friend came down the stairs, typed in the code, and came into the lab. Harry stood in front of where the corroded reactor was and hoped his friend wouldn't see it.

"I don't want to know details," Harry told him. "Just that it's done."

"It's done, but we might have a problem." Blaise ran a hand over his head. "Someone tried to help him escape the prison. I was just barely able to get it under control."

"Shit. Do we have any idea of who—"

"I have a few and I can watch them easily enough through the military." Blaise stepped closer and took hold of Harry's chin, tilting his head from side to side. "How much did she fix?"

Harry pulled away. "Why are you asking me questions you already know?"

"Harry—"

"Don't, Blaise. I don't get to be upset when you go off to help a war, you don't get to be upset when some amateur tries to beat me up." Harry crossed his arms. "I'm _fine_."

"You're a terrible liar." Blaise glanced down to the table and at the reactor there. "What's that?"

"Nothing." Harry turned to pick it up, but Blaise summoned it before he could. "Blaise…"

"What the hell is around it?"

"I was testing it," Harry quickly lied. "Seeing what kind of poisons or acids it could hold up to. You know, just in case."

"What's this from, then?"

Harry forced himself to look at Blaise. If they looked at each other, maybe Blaise would believe him. "Mercury."

No, Blaise didn't believe him. Harry could see it in his eyes, but Blaise did put the reactor back down. "You'll tell me when you really need help, right?"

"Of course I will. Blaise, you're my best friend."

The corner of Blaise's mouth quirked up slightly. "Yeah, I guess I am. Does that mean I get to call you out on your bullshit?"

"Can it wait until after the expo opening? I'm kind of busy on that front." It would also give him enough time to think of a better excuse than Mercury.

"Yeah, Harry, it can wait." Blaise patted Harry's shoulder a few times before pulling them close enough that their foreheads touched. "Just don't lock me out."

"I save that torture for Clint. You're good."

"Asshole." Blaise grinned and backed off. "I'm going to go take Hermione and distract her for a few hours. We'll see you at dinner."

Harry wrinkled his nose and made a gagging noise. "Didn't need to know that, _ew_. Thinking of my friend doing what I know you're implying is _not_ how I want to spend my evening."

Blaise laughed, heading for the door. "Consider it payback for making me go into a French prison."

Harry rolled his eyes and said nothing else as Blaise went up the stairs. He was glad his friend was back and that Vanko was one less thing to worry about. He had no doubts that Blaise would make sure the man's death looked like an accident – it was just whomever tried to help him escape that worried Harry now. If Blaise could watch them easily through the military, that didn't bode well.

He sighed and stared at the corroded reactor, wondering when he was ever going to get a chance to just relax and enjoy life. He didn't expect things to be normal after he announced that he was Iron Man, but he wasn't sure he expected quite this much drama.

"Jarvis?

"_Sir_?"

"Find me a way to keep track of the Palladium levels. The last thing I want to do is kneel over and die without warning."

"_Yes, sir. Am I to assume that this is private_?"

"Nobody but me for now," Harry agreed. "They don't need to worry."

He stood in silence, unable to really think of a solution, for a long time.

* * *

So last Friday as I sat in my (very boring) class, I had an idea. And then I ran with it. And the next thing I knew, I had an outline for this fic. Hurray, structure! Depending on how things go (plans always change, after all), this could go two different ways. Just know that I may or may not make _The Avengers_ a third installment instead of attaching it here. Either way, the poisoning won't get settled for a while. Yes, his magic is slowing it down. On top of that, Harry does have access to things Tony didn't (potions!) so things will go differently.

I was going to answer this privately, but I figured I'd put it here. When I mentioned that Harry and Natasha were going to be closer, I didn't mean pairing-wise. Harry still isn't in a relationship and, for the moment, he's quite enjoying himself in bachelor-land.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Ugh, sorry this took so long! I think this has been the longest between an update ever, but I might be wrong. Work and personal issues got in the way and this chapter just didn't want to come out. That and plot bunnies galore on various other projects.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Harry balanced the cell between his ear and shoulder as he adjusted the cuffs on his shirt. He hated the fact that he had to look professional each and every time he stepped out of the house, but such was the life of Tony Stark. He sighed, making sure it was heard on the other end of the line, and tried not to get too frustrated at the woman he was speaking to. She was just doing her job, after all.

"That tower was supposed to have a few floors already set aside for a living space. My father had it that way and I expected it to stay that way."

"_Yes, sir,_" the woman said, her voice shaking a little. "_Our records show that Mister Stane indicated that those floors be turned into—_"

"Yeah, no. Okay, we'll get a hotel until the rooms are finished. Do you have a time frame on that?"

Hermione walked in with an empty suitcase while the girl answered. "_It will be at least two days—_"

"That's fine." Harry took the suitcase and tossed it on the bed. "Edwin is already on his way and he'll make sure everything is set up how I like it. You should have his flight information."

"_Yes, Mister Stark._"

"Good, thanks." Harry hung up and offered Hermione a smile. "What, you didn't pack for me?"

"I never pack for you." Hermione pulled out her own phone and ran her finger across the screen. "Our plane leaves in two hours. Have you told Clint that we're leaving yet?"

"He hides in my vents. He probably already knows." Harry pulled a few suits and clothes out, tossing them in the direction of the bed. "Have you heard from Blaise?"

"This morning after he woke up. He said there were a lot of late-night preparations, which is why he didn't call when he landed." Hermione folded the clothes and placed them neatly in. "He would also like you to know that he hates you for wanting to do this expo and hopes that you fall on your face at some point during your opening speech."

Harry laughed, tossing the last bit of his clothes he wanted onto the bed. "I'll let him know that I love him, too."

"I might get jealous." Hermione nudged his side. "Also, I want a vacation after this expo is over. Two weeks, at least."

"Two weeks where I go back to running this alone?"

Hermione snorted. "You have _never_ run this company alone."

"Yeah, I know." Harry closed the suitcase and ran a hand over it. The authorities in London had given it to him after Howard's funeral and the old man's name was still stitched into the corner. The thread was faded, greyer than the black it used to be. "I can't do it without you."

"I hope that's me you're talking about." Clint came into the room behind Hermione and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Is it me, right?"

"You are so lucky that my overly-jealous boyfriend is in New York," Hermione said, though she didn't shrug out of the hold. "He was talking about me."

"Well damn." Clint sighed and put all his weight on Hermione. "My life is ruined."

Harry rolled his eyes. "When you stop putting holes in my wall, I will make you my favorite."

"That will never happen, so I'm safe." Hermione finally pulled away with a laugh. "I'm going to put my things in the car and make sure everything else is ready to go."

"We're going somewhere?" Clint asked, watching Hermione leave.

"Don't pretend you don't know."

Clint smirked and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I could use a vacation, only I know that isn't what this will be. Protecting you in a crowd of rowdy people is going to be hell."

"I don't need protection."

"Yeah, sorry, this is the Director's orders." Clint shrugged and Harry knew that he wasn't sorry at all. Something told him that, orders or not, Clint would take a bullet for him. "She said we had two hours?"

"Not that you need it, right?"

"Already packed." Clint smiled a little. "We're taking your private jet, right? The one where your flight attendants pole dance while in flight?"

Harry stared at him, confused. "Where did you get that idea?"

"You mean it isn't true?"

"No, it isn't true. I don't even have attendants, just a military pilot."

"Ugh, you are no longer as fun as I thought you were." Clint backed up until he could lean against the door. "Seriously, I'm reconsidering being your friend."

"You would never. I let you live in a shiny mansion instead of some kind of plain barracks."

"Such a cruel truth you tell." Clint let out an over-exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I'll have to keep you."

Harry snorted and picked up the suitcase. "Shut up and bring your stuff to the car. We're leaving soon."

"Can I drive?"

"No." Harry pushed Clint out of the room. "Come on, time to go have fun in the big city."

Clint whined about not being able to drive all the way to his room to grab his bag, and then all the way to the car where Hermione and Neville were already waiting. Thankfully, he quieted down once Hermione sent him a look, though Harry wasn't sure how long the quiet would last. Clint was only quiet when feeling out of place, and that just wasn't possible anymore around them. Somehow, Clint had become family.

The actual flight saw Clint doing work on his SHIELD-issues laptop and Harry didn't bother asking to see what he was working on. Friends and family, yes, but that didn't mean they got to share all their secrets. Clint knew the basics of who Harry was, but nothing past his name and how he became Tony. Clint had shrugged off the revelation and still called him Tony, but he also didn't blink when the others called him Harry. It was an odd relationship, but it worked. In return for that small gesture, Harry never asked Clint anything past basic details when it came to his job.

At some point in time, he must have dozed off in his chair because he woke when the plane bounced its landing, his neck sore. He groaned and rubbed it before leaning forward in his chair. He hated flying in planes and would rather use his broom or the suit.

"How much time until I need to do the opening ceremony?" he mumbled out.

"Less than an hour," Hermione said, handing him a bottle of water. "Just enough time to eat and get ready."

Fabulous. "You'll go to the hotel and get things settled there?"

"Of course. Clint will be in the rafters when you land to make sure that you're safe. Rhodey has a few people patrolling the crowds, and Happy will be there to take you to the hotel when you're finished."

"Thanks, mom."

Hermione rolled her eyes and got up to open the door once the plane stopped. Clint patted Harry's shoulder before following behind, leaving Neville and Harry in the main cabin.

"Are you ready to go?" Neville asked.

"No." Harry rubbed his eyes, but he stood up anyway. "I'm starting to rethink this whole thing."

"Stop over-thinking everything." Neville wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. "We'll be fine and I'm sure this will be fun. What could go wrong?"

"Oh god, please don't say that." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I said that before I left for… Before. And we all know how _that_ turned out."

"Relax, Harry. Jump out of that plane, fly your shiny suit down, and give them the show they want. Then, once we get back to the hotel, we'll have a huge Super Smash Brothers tournament where Clint will surely kick our ass."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that, stepping in front of Neville to walk down the plane's stairs before him. "He'd go for Pit or Link, you know that."

"And you always go for Star Fox, it's okay. Pepper loves Zelda and I'll get Mister Game and Watch." Neville took the keys that someone handed to him. "Maybe, if Edwin is available, he'll join us. Rhodey, too."

"Did I hear something about Smash Brothers?" Clint asked, holding the door for Harry. "I am _so_ in. I call Pit!"

"We know," Harry said, sliding into the car. Since there was room, Clint followed him into the back. "One day, we're all going to choose Pit and confuse you."

"You'll confuse yourselves first."

Hermione shrugged, a smile playing at her lips. "Probably, but it'll at least be fun." She handed Harry an ear piece. "I wrote your speech, so all you need to do is repeat it."

Harry stuck the piece into his ear with a grin. "What would I do without you?"

"Stumble around like a drunk and say the wrong things." Hermione turned to her tablet and hummed.

Clint snorted, leaning back in his seat. "She's got a point there, Tony."

Harry flipped him off, making Neville laugh from the front seat. Harry then let himself smile and pretend that everything was going to be fine. That the watch on his arm didn't tell him his poisoning level (8%) as well as the time. That he had no idea how he was going to get past a mistake like this.

He leaned back in his seat and listened while Clint and Neville argued about different versions of Smash Brothers and which one was better. This was normal. He liked normal. Right now, he _needed_ normal.

* * *

Unrelated to this fic (but might be a possible future thing if I keep this going), but I have major Civil War feels right now. Kevin (guy who runs this showboat at Marvel Studios) said that it might be a good thing for the _Avengers 3_ story line (timeline wise), so of course I begin to hunt information down. I want to know, I can't help it. But the utter devastation that comes out of that story line just pulls at everything in my heart. I'm eating it up right now, but at the same point I'm trying to run far away from it. It's an odd thing to experience, let me tell you. So yeah, that's a Big Thing that might come up in the future. What side will Harry be on? Don't know. There's so much at stake for BOTH sides.

On a related note: I'm not looking for a beta, than you to the guest that wrote that review. If you found one mistake in an entire chapter, congrats to me since I quite literally just write it, don't read over it (except for reference), and post it. There is literally no editing whatsoever going on.


	5. Chapter 5 - Interlude

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: This particular chapter is through the eyes of Tony Stark while Harry's looking at his memories. Tossing that out there in case it isn't completely clear here.

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Interlude**

Little Anthony Edward Stark crawled from the side of his mother's chair, gurgling and laughing as he made his way to his father's legs. As soon as he reached the pristine shoes and fabric, he reached out and _tugged_ as hard as his chubby hands could.

Above him, Howard jerked the folder out of the way and frowned down at the baby boy. "What are you doing down there?"

Anthony sat back on his bum and reached up toward his father.

"Son, I need to work…"

"It won't kill you to have him sit in your lap," Maria said from behind Anthony. Anthony turned his head as his mother picked him up off the floor. "He's a good boy."

Anthony giggled and clapped his hands together as he was settled into his father's lap. Howard huffed and settled his papers around his son before going back to work.

_The images swirled and Anthony grew into Tony_.

Tony knew his way around machines before he knew how to speak. At first, his parents had been worried about the lack of coherent words coming from him, but that was soon forgotten. Once Tony Stark began talking, he never stopped. He learned faster than Howard could teach, and further than Maria ever studied.

Tony built his first piece of machinery at the age of four and he waited _hours_ for his father to come home so he could show it off. Howard said he would be back by six, and the clock was ticking its way past eight. Maria had long given up waiting for her husband and shuffled off to her study for a nightcap.

Tony sat on the edge of the couch, steadily ignoring the moving of Jarvis, and stared at the door. It was well after ten when Howard opened the door and stumbled into the room.

"Dad!" Tony jumped up and ran toward him. "Dad, dad! Look!"

Howard rubbed his eyes. "Not now, Anthony."

Tony held up his hands, the circuit board balanced on them. "But dad, look!"

Howard patted Tony's head as he stumbled by. "Maybe tomorrow."

Tony watched his father walk off, tears threatening his eyes.

_Nothing made Howard happy, not unless there was a camera involved._

Tony let himself smile at his mother as Howard stood next to him and the bike that held the engine he built. Howard laughed for the cameras, talking about Tony's accomplishments as if he hadn't just looked them over the night before. He was a proud father of a prodigy child. A genius. "A true Stark."

Tony let himself selfishly bask in the glow of his father's attentions, even if he knew that it would end soon. Obadiah stood off to the side, explaining Tony's creations to any reporter that came to listen. Obadiah knew everything because he was always there. He was the one Tony ran to about whatever knew thing he built.

The reporters and cameras stayed for two hours and, by the end of it, Tony felt as though he were flying. His father had never let go of him the entire time. His father was laughing with him. His father was _there_.

And then Howard was back, standing and brushing off his pants once the reporters left. "You need to bathe," he told Tony as he went to the only phone in the room. "You still have grease on yourself."

"Howard…"

Howard shook his head at Maria and dialed a number. After a moment, he smiled. Tony hadn't seen that smile in a long time. "Fury, it's me. Found him, yet?"

Tony looked away before he could see that smile fall. He _knew_ Howard was looking for someone. Someone that would never be found.

"Come on," his mother said, pulling him toward the door. "Perhaps we'll go for some ice cream…"

_There was always a search, always someone to find, and it was never ever Tony._

Tony clutched his admissions letter to MIT tightly, facing down his father. "I'm going," he insisted. "Mother would have wanted me to go."

"Your mother isn't _here_."

"Because you drove her off always looking for your lost girlfriend!"

The slap snapped Tony's head sharply to the side. Father and son stood there, one shocked and one angry, as Tony's face reddened. Tony wished Obadiah was here; at least he could calm him father down enough to convince him that this was a good idea.

"You would never make it at MIT," Howard said, his voice low.

"Are you mad because I got accepted on my first try? Or because I got accepted so young?" Tony finally looked back to Howard. "Just think of it as another boarding school. Ship me off again and don't look back."

"I won't pay."

"That's fine, I'll get loans."

Howard's eyes narrowed as he picked up a half-empty glass of scotch. "You'll drop out within a month."

"I'll graduate a year early."

Howard snorted before taking a sip of his drink. The phone rang next to them and Howard jumped, grabbing it before Tony could even think to reach out for it. "Howard Stark."

Tony turned around and walked to the door. "I'm leaving in a week," he told Howard.

Howard, who was too busy swearing at the phone and telling whomever was on the other end that _he_ needed to be found. Another few million dollars pushed into the search would surely do it.

Tony just wished he knew _who_ he was supposed to live up to.

_Sobriety was rare, but it was Tony's favorite time. A sober Howard at least cared enough to see him._

Tony leaned against the window of the rented car, watching as London streets flew by. There was something peaceful about London that New York or Malibu just didn't have and he wondered if he could convince Howard to build an estate out here. They probably already had one, though, and Howard was keeping quiet about it.

"The conference is important," Howard said after a while. "I want you on your best behavior. Don't talk unless spoken to, and don't show off your untested ideas."

Tony knew the speech, he knew the drill. "Yes, sir."

"If this works like it should, we'll have a few more supporters and can go back home very rich men."

Tony let himself laugh. "Dad, we're already very rich men."

The smile that played across Howard's face was a gift, one that Tony knew he would cherish for the rest of his life. He hadn't seen that smile in years.

"Yes, son. Yes we are," Howard said as he gripped the wheel tightly. "But we'll be _richer_."

Tony kept smiling, praying that he wouldn't mess this up. That he wouldn't be the one to take that smile off his father's face. "Bragging rights to Obi, then?"

"Damn right. He'll be upset that he didn't want to come after all." Howard turned down an empty road. "Come on, what do you say to seeing what this car can do? We've got some time before we need to be there."

Tony straightened in his seat. "Come on, dad, let her go. I bet she can push a hundred and twenty."

Howard laughed, actually _laughed_, and pressed his foot down on the accelerator until the car passed eighty. They were both still laughing as he released the pedal to slow it back down and Tony was glad he didn't actually try to push it past that. This was enough for now.

_Two more turns and the brakes would fail, but at least his last memory of his father was of his smile_.

* * *

This particular chapter has been a concept since page one of _An Iron Magic_. Something I probably didn't explain well (huzzah?) was that when Harry went through their memories before, he was looking for specific things and mostly stuck to Howard. I always had a plan that he would eventually, someday, go back and see things he missed. Tony's broken relationship with Howard was just one of the things I wanted to touch on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: I skipped the opening of the Stark Expo because, well, it would have pretty much been word-for-word what was in the movie. And I'm trying _not_ to quote the movies as much this time around (which will get harder and I will break that promise when it comes time for good old fashion Avenger-ing – don't worry, there's a while to go for that). So the last chapter, and this one, technically take place after the Expo opens.

Also, tumlr really eats my soul. Like, seriously eats my soul. I could spend hours there. (I stalk one of you on there. I don't remember how I found you, but I stalk you!) If you want to stalk me there, feel free. Just know that all my ships are reblogged, so there is a large amount of slash. A ridiculous amount of slash, actually. Thoki, Superfamily, ScienceBros... Hell, I'm an AvengersOT8 and I'm not ashamed to admit it. (I'm doing an OT8 Bingo Card, but those are being posted at AO3 under the series title "In This Place We Call Home" - first fic is "Battle Rituals" and I'm working on my second right now (it should be finished soon) if anyone is interested. I know I have a healthy mix of slash and non slash waters here, so I figured I'd just put it out there. Anyway, both tumblr and AO3 are under the same name as here.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Harry hadn't realized he passed out until someone shook him awake. He groaned and rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut to try and hold back the urge to be ill all over the hotel carpet. He could afford to replace it, yes, but that didn't mean he _wanted_ to. Harry vowed that he would never look at memories without a chaperone again. Especially ones that were as chaotic and oddly-structured as Tony Stark's. What else did he expect from a genius, though?

"Are you okay?"

Thank _god_ that was Blaise and not Clint. Harry didn't want to explain to Clint why he had fainted near a small, glowing basin. "Fine. Bathroom."

Blaise didn't argue as he dragged Harry across the room and into the pristine bathroom. They settled around the toilet and Harry let himself take a few deep breaths, glad when his stomach started to calm down.

"What the hell happened?" Blaise asked, his voice soft. He ran a hand through Harry's hair. "Do I need to call Miranda?"

"Memories," Harry murmured. He would never admit that he leaned into Blaise's hand. "I needed information, so I looked at Tony's memories."

"You've never reacted this bad to them before…"

Harry opened his eyes and frowned at him. "I haven't looked at them in eleven years. Any information on Tony and Howard, I just got from the press or old files at the house."

"Damn, Harry, you—"

"And it was a little hard to maneuver." Harry sighed and leaned against Blaise. "Now I have a damn headache. Shit."

"Well, I guess we're just lucky that you decided to look at the memories _after_ you opened the expo."

"Mmhm." Harry closed his eyes again. "Next time, you're following me. Or helping me somehow."

"Deal." Blaise was quiet for a moment, but Harry could tell he wanted to say more. Sure enough, Blaise soon sighed and pushed Harry back to look at him. "Why were you looking at them now?"

Several reasons passed through Harry's mind, but he settled on the one he actually saw. "I needed to know Tony and Howard's real relationship."

"So you went with Tony's first? Harry, I really don't think—"

"Sorry," Harry said, pushing away. "I guess I had hope that they had a normal relationship while he was growing up. I wanted to see that Tony thought his father was a good man."

"And?"

Harry rubbed at his eyes. "And I was wrong. At least to Tony, Howard was a bastard. I'm glad I made the decision not to talk about Howard to other people as much as I could get away with. I would have painted him different and ruined this whole thing."

Blaise rubbed at Harry's back. "So what now?"

"I should look at Howard's memories, I guess." Harry reached out to the toilet to help himself stand. "I'm not sure if I want to anymore."

"Harry…"

"Maybe it's time to stop this, Blaise. Maybe it's time to finally let Tony Stark rest."

Blaise was quiet for a long time and only spoke when Harry got enough courage to look at him. "What about Iron Man? The people that depend on him?"

Harry rubbed at the reactor, wondering how long he had before the poison started to show on his body. "Heroes sacrifice themselves every day," he said, taking a few steps back to lean on the counter. "Besides, I kind of miss London."

"This is insane, you know that?" Blaise reached out to tap Harry's chest and Harry couldn't help but flinch away. Nobody had touched it since Stane. Blaise, thankfully, continued on as if nothing had happened. "Did you ever stop to think about Hermione and I? We aren't superheroes. We can't fake our deaths."

Harry looked away from him. "Hermione can hand the company over to someone and disappear. Claim it's because of heartbreak or something."

"And me?"

"Military mission gone wrong?"

Blaise snorted and shoved at Harry's shoulder. "You're an asshole. Despite everything you put us through, Hermione and I actually _like_ this. She feels like she's making a difference in the world and I'm a highly-respected soldier."

"Power hungry?"

"Don't you know it." Blaise wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and walked him back into the room. "If you want to kick the bucket, that's fine, but don't expect us to follow this time. This is our life now."

Harry grunted as Blaise settled him on the bed. He let his friend shove him under the covers and then watched as he put away the miniature Pensive. It fascinated Harry how the blue of his reactor and the blue of the Pensive matched and he tried not to think of that in a morbid way. He couldn't help that he did, but at least he tried.

"Hey, Blaise?"

Blaise glanced over to Harry with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"What do you think about moving here?"

"To a hotel?"

Harry let himself laugh. "No, to New York. I mean, we stayed in Malibu because it was more secluded and we had more time to slide into our new lives, but…"

"New York is where the company is officially run from, I know." Blaise sat on the edge of the bed. "If you want to live here, in New York, I'll follow you. You, Hermione, and Neville are all I have now." He smiled and shook his head. "And even Barton when he isn't being an idiot. We're a family, and family sticks together."

"Unless one of us dies, you unfaithful Slytherin."

Blaise laughed and leaned forward to ruffle Harry's hair. "That stopped being an insult _years_ ago. Get some rest, idiotic Gryffindor."

Harry watched Blaise leave, unable to stop smiling at the old exchange. Sometimes it felt good to remember who they used to be, especially if there was no war mentioned. As soon as Blaise left and the high ran down, Harry's thoughts turned back to the memories and Howard. He doubted the man would know an element that could replace Palladium – Howard would sure never expect someone stupid enough to shove it repeatedly into his own body.

Harry really, really needed to stop doing this whole stupidity act. It was getting old.

He sighed and reached over to the tablet next to the bed, glad that he made sure Jarvis was uploaded into it. "Jarvis, you up?"

"_Up and waiting with recent diagnostic examination_."

The last thing he wanted was bad news, but he needed to know. "The watch says nine percent. Did you run the potions through to see what would help?"

"_I have, sir, and am sending you the ones that may do some good_." A corner of the tablet lit up; Harry flicked it open, frowning at the options. "_I have also including some regular herb combinations that may help_."

"Thanks, I'll get started on these when I can. When's my next meeting?"

"_Your next appearance is at two-thirty tomorrow afternoon in the West Pavilion with several key military leaders. Shall I run off their names_?"

"No, let's just make it a surprise. Make sure I'm heading there by two."

"_Sir, will take approximately an hour_—"

"I know, but this is my show, right? Relax, we've already scheduled for the fact that I'm going to be late." Harry hummed and opened another file. "How are we going on the designs for this?"

"_Your secret project is still secret, sir._"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I hope so. I don't want Blaise to see this before I'm finished." He hesitated. "Someone's got to take up Iron Man when I'm gone and I doubt he'd want Gryffindor colors."

"_Yes, sir. Silver and green are much more elegant._"

"The bad part is that you're telling the truth." Harry wrinkled his nose and turned the image. "Add some more guns to it. He's big into that stuff now that he plays with it all day. Maybe one on the shoulder…?"

"_His is to be less discrete than yours, sir_?"

"Of course because he'll hate that. Slytherins love discrete." Harry tapped a few more things. "We do still have that small storage of Stark weapons, right?"

"_I am always watching it, sir_."

"Great, we'll use those." Harry stretched and put the tablet back. "I'm going to take a nap."

Jarvis didn't answer him back, but Harry really didn't need him to. He was already asleep.

* * *

I'm pretty sure I referenced a few things wrong and I spent some time rereading and looking for said things, but I failed to find them. After a while, I threw my hands up and said, "Never mind! I'm writing this for fun. I can fix it later." So there you go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Work week from hell, seriously. I work an 8-hour shift (7.5 after the required breaks they force on me). My normal work load is roughly 10 hours as it is and my manager wants to tack on another 2. It's causes unneeded stress because instead of getting me in trouble for not doing this new work load, she's yelling at the assistants. I even told her to her face "I can't do this and I refuse" and she still yells at them instead. Seriously, lady, the hell? So yes, hellish week and I didn't get to write much. This isn't what I wanted to put out, but things weren't cooperating (in any fic I was doing). Ugh.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Justin's Hammer's email to him had been full of rambling sentences that Harry had no hope of understanding. Really, the man was an idiot and if he thought Harry would be impressed with "highly kick-ass Hammer Drones that will make your head bob" then he was clearly on some kind of drugs. Still, there was an open slot on the festivities and Blaise always got a kick out of watching people fail. Especially when it came to people who were supposed to be an expert in their field.

He was in the middle of typing up a response when Clint stepped through the door. He smiled from his position on the bed and waved his friend closer. At least tomorrow he would be in the tower and not this place.

"I heard you've been going a little crazy trying to follow me around the expo."

"You don't make my life easy," Clint agreed. He stood by the edge of the bed instead of sitting.

Harry looked up at him with a frown. "Clint, you okay?"

"I have an assignment. The director thinks I'm getting too soft following you around."

"I could put myself in front of a few criminals. Would like relax his mind?"

Clint smiled (just barely, but Harry could see it). "Asshole. Coulson and I are going to New Mexico. Seems something happened and … yeah, so I didn't listen to the briefing that well. Shit happened, I've been assigned."

"And you just got here, too." Harry sighed and put the laptop off to the side. "All right, I can last a few days without you on my ass."

"Sorry, but Fury doesn't trust this whole big thing. You've been assigned a new agent."

Which was utterly ridiculous considering Fury knew _exactly_ who and what Harry was. "Fantastic. When does he get here?"

"_She_ gets here in two days. Until then, Fury insists that you stay in your tower. Since you'll be finally moving in, I don't see that as a problem."

"I can take care of myself."

Clint shrugged. "Not my call, but I know. He seemed agitated about something. Nat's bringing someone with her, too." He hesitated. "Remember that guy I knew? The Tony Stark fanboy on the run?"

"Yeah, I remember. I said I didn't want any more spies in my house."

"That's who she's bringing." Clint stepped back to go to the door. "Don't ask me why, neither would say anything."

"If Fury thinks he can use me for some kind of large prison or something…"

"No, Banner wouldn't go for that. Really, I think you'll like him." Clint stopped by the door and turned to look at Tony. "Keep in touch, okay? I mean it. I want updates on the expo and the new suit you're making. At least one message a day, Stark, or I will hunt you down and put an arrow in your balls."

"You do that and you won't remember who you are."

Clint laughed and Harry was glad that he had gotten it out of him. "Noted. I'll let you know if anything interesting goes down."

"I expect it."

The door shut softer than Clint had ever closed a door before and Harry sighed. He witnessed war and saw how soldiers were born. He knew that Clint was already getting his mind geared up for whatever mission this was. Clint was never actually officially assigned to him, but it had been an unspoken agreement between himself and Fury that Clint could stay with him. This wasn't his first mission, but it was the first time Clint wasn't leaving him alone.

Something wasn't adding up.

Harry finished his email to Hammer before setting up the computer so he could call Fury. Clint already showed him how to cut through all the crap in SHIELD's phones and Harry had to hold back a laugh when Fury's irritated face showed up on his screen. The irritation doubled when Fury realized who he was talking to, so Harry let himself smirk.

"Mister Stark, I won't bother asking how you managed to bypass my security feeds. _What_ do you want?"

Harry knew that Fury had some trouble putting Harry Potter and Tony Stark together as one person, which really made this situation all the better. Before in their interactions, Harry had refrained from being Tony around the man, but they had also been alone then. He could see the people behind Fury and that gave him permission to make this work. If Edwin were here, he'd be proud.

"You ignored your free ticket into my expo, Director. I'm hurt.'

Fury narrowed his eye and looked away from the screen. "You got two minutes, Stark."

"Sure, not a problem. I just want to know why the hell you feel the need to bundle my SHIELD pet off to New Mexico. I was finally getting attached and remembering to feed him." Someone behind Fury quirked their lips and Harry was glad that someone did. "On top of that, you think I need _another_ babysitter?"

"This isn't your decision, Stark." Fury shifted and a woman stepped up next to him, papers in her hand. Harry had never seen her before. "You are to stay in your ugly tower and keep out of trouble until Agent Romanoff arrives with Doctor Banner."

"See, that's the part of this plan I don't like," Harry told him, making sure his sigh was long. "You of all people know that trouble follows me."

The woman finally looked at him. She hesitated, took a second look, and then her eyes flickered up at Harry's forehead. He hadn't seen that particular gesture in years and he hated it, hated how it reminded him of things lost. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Who the hell is she," Harry demanded, interrupting whatever Fury had been going on about.

Fury looked between the woman and Harry before shaking his head. "Now is not the time, Stark."

"She knows, doesn't she." Harry just needed the wide-eyed look of the woman to confirm that. "Shit, Fury, did you tell everyone that works under you?"

"I can assure you, Mister _Stark_, that this is not the time. Agent Hill is my second-in-command as well as one of our liaisons between a few secret societies throughout the world." Fury reached toward his feed. "Good day, Stark."

The screen went blank and Harry swore, leaning away from the computer. Really, he shouldn't be so surprised by this. In an organization like SHIELD, there was bound to be someone who knew who Harry Potter was. But knowing Tony was actually Harry? No, Harry wanted to choose just who he told. Someone like that knowing the truth didn't feel right.

His computer lit up again, warning him of an incoming call. Harry knew he shouldn't answer while still frustrated, but he needed a distraction more. He accepted it (from SHIELD) and leaned forward to be seen in the feed.

He hadn't expected the woman to be staring back at him. "Agent Hill, right?"

"This is a secure line, Mister Stark, so know that you may talk freely. Yes, I am Agent Hill. I'm assuming you want to talk to me."

"I just want to know who you are," Harry told her, mostly honest. "How do you know who I am? Fury say something?"

"I have known you were Harry Potter since your disappearance from Britain, sir. Your ministry informed me as soon as they knew, as well as every other agency. They only wanted to find you."

She didn't moved at all while she spoke and that unnerved Harry. Clint was pretty animated, but Coulson was closed off. Fury definitely didn't move a muscle. Were all SHIELD agents trained the same way?

"Did you tell them?"

Finally, she moved. A slight shake of her head. "I trusted that you had a reason to parade around as Howard Stark's son. I'm assuming the boy is dead?"

"Buried him about a mile away from the accident." It had been crudely done, too. "So Fury knew…?"

"From day one. He is my superior and it's our job to know things about people. You have always been on the watch list, even as Harry Potter." Her lips quirked. "Thank you for saving us some paperwork by becoming one person."

"Remind me not to do it again." Harry rubbed at his eyes as Hill went back to not moving. "How many in SHIELD know everything?"

"Director Fury and I are the only agents on base that know everything."

"And off?"

"That depends on how much you have told Agent Barton."

"That's it?" Three people? Harry felt himself relax, but only slightly. He could deal with just three people. Maybe. "What about the paperwork?"

"I handled it myself." Hill's eyes flickered off the screen. "I need to go, Mister Stark. I just wanted to reassure you that your secrets are safe with us. SHIELD doesn't like to play around."

"Any chance you can call off my babysitters?"

"No, but I will give you a piece of advice." Hill stood and leaned over the desk she had been sitting at. "Don't piss either of them off. One will kill you and the other will watch with a gleeful smile. Though, in the end, I'd be more afraid of the smile than the fist pushing you into the ground."

The feed cut off and Harry was once again left to stare at a blank screen. "Well, that just sounds lovely."

* * *

So I'm good at being at Point A and looking to Point B, but I suck at how to get there. So sorry this chapter is kind of short and full of crap. Bruce should be showing up next chapter with Natasha, though!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: To the guest who bitched about the paperwork jibe: dude, it's SHIELD. What do they not have paperwork/information on? Maria's holding onto it for future purposes – which they will need.

Anyway, have some Bruce. And warning: Natasha isn't the best when I write her – sorry!

* * *

**Chapter 8**

The moment Natasha Romanoff stepped into the room was the moment that Harry realized that he might just be in over his head with his disguise. He eyes continued to stare straight at him, but the way she moved around the furniture and unpacked boxes told Harry that she was very much aware of her surroundings. It was unnerving, it made him feel like an open book, and he hated it. How could this be one of Clint's friends?

"Mister Stark." She held out her hand and Harry hesitated before shaking it. "My name is Agent Romanoff and this is Doctor Bruce Banner."

Harry glanced behind her, finally noticing a timid man just barely in the room. He was constantly wringing his hands and his eyes darted to every corner of the room. Harry felt himself soften a bit; he knew that look well enough since he had seen it every day on Remus. He had a right to look nervous since he also had a "monster" living inside him – Harry read the reports, made sure Edwin had found everything he could on the doctor. When Jarvis finally gets installed, Harry was going to run another search just in case they missed something.

"It's nice to meet you both." Harry gave Romanoff a smile before motioning to his friends. "This is Happy, my driver." Neville gave a nod. "Rhodey is my liaison with the military."

"Rhodes," Blaise corrected. "And I haven't been acting in that official capacity since Mister Stark stopped making us weapons."

"Really? Damn, and I still pay you…"

Blaise smirked as Hermione stepped forward, holding her hand out. "Pepper Potts, Stark Industries current CEO. We're happy to have you both here."

Romanoff quickly dropped the hand and looked back to Harry. "We have cut down the amount of appearances that you will be making at the expo—"

Harry stepped forward, frowning. "Hold on now."

"—And it would be in your best interest to follow orders until it ends. Miss Potts, I need to speak with you about the security of this building as well as the measures you have in place for defense."

Blaise crossed his arms. "This place is more secure than you think it is, Agent. This is private property once you get past the first half of the building, so I would watch your step."

"My priorities—"

"Don't fuck with us," Blaise said, his voice low. "Your boss might have told you to protect Tony's ass, but he doesn't need it. He let Barton do it because he's a friend, not because it was required. I hope you remember that."

Romanoff pursed her lips and Harry held back a shiver as she looked over them. She reminded him of McGonagall a little. A really pissed off and Slytherin McGonagall. Any minute now, he expected her to dock points to hand out detentions. He just hoped that her look could stop whatever evil thing Fury thought was going to go after him. She looked barely able enough to punch someone.

"Agent Romanoff, Happy will show you to your room. My butler, Edwin, makes dinner around six and I suggest you don't be late." Harry motioned for her to go to Neville. "We won't be discussing anything about the tower with you. You want that privilege, you have to earn it."

"Did Barton earn that?"

"Jealous?"

Romanoff shot him a look before stepping beside Neville. Thankfully, Neville had gotten his fear of intimidating people (war did that more than anything) and simply led her from the room. Blaise shut the door after them and then turned to the other new person in the room.

"Are you here to spy on us, too?" he asked.

The man flinched and Harry sighed. "Lay off, Rhodes. Think of him as our little Lupin and we'll all get along fine."

Both Hermione and Blaise gave him a pointed look. Blaise looked away first, offering Banner a smile. "Sorry, I'm lacking in information about you."

"Yeah, they told me they tried to keep what happened under wraps."

"Doctor Banner—"

"Please, call me Bruce."

Hermione hesitated, then smiled. "All right, Bruce. Why don't you tell us about yourself?"

"Pepper, your manners are horrible." Harry motioned toward the couches. "Have a seat, Bruce. Want anything to drink?

"Water is fine." Bruce settled as far away from them as he could, on the edge of his seat. "Thank you."

Harry shrugged and went to grab some water for all of them. "Sorry if we seem a bit on edge here."

"It's understandable."

Harry smiled and handed Bruce his drink before taking a seat straight on the coffee table. Blaise still stood off to the side, but Hermione at least was sitting on the couch behind Harry. He hoped that this was comfortable enough for the man, especially since he wasn't sure how to make it more comfortable at the moment. He wished he still had Remus around to talk to.

"Fury didn't tell us exactly what you're here for," Harry told him. "Got any insight on that?"

Bruce stared down at the water, shrugging. "Honestly? I'm not sure. He said that you might need my help on a project, but he didn't tell me what. Are you experimenting with the human body, Mister Stark?"

"I don't remember starting one." Harry looked back to Hermione. "Pepper, am I—"

"Unless you're doing it secretly, then no." Hermione picked up a tablet and flipped through a few things. "Your last project written here was about your suits."

"See, no human bodies. Why?"

Bruce let out a breath. "He gave me a list of elements and told me to study how they affect the human body. Mercury, palladium—"

"Seriously?" Harry gripped his glass tighter. "Well that's interesting. I'm assuming you'll need a lab?"

"And materials."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, sure. Pepper, get him settled in a lab?"

"Any lab?"

"One he feels comfortable in, just…" Just not his personal lab.

"Of course, Mister Stark." Hermione stood and motioned for Bruce to follow her. "You remember what time dinner is?"

"Six sharp," Bruce said, stepping up next to her. "I don't mind helping…"

"Nonsense. Edwin would be insulted."

"Oh, all right."

The elevator doors shut and Harry let out a breath. Studying Palladium and the effects on the human body. Did Fury know? The psycho at the race knew, so of course Fury did. Harry rubbed his face and stood.

"I think I'm going to—"

"Don't, Harry." Blaise stepped closer, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Just don't say anything. I don't want to hear it."

"What?"

"Tell me when you're ready." Blaise patted Harry's shoulder once before turning toward the elevators. "I'm a Slytherin, Harry. I can tell when you're hiding something from me."

Harry could do nothing but watch him leave.

* * *

It's short, I know. I'm sorry. I've been knocking out thousands of words on other projects as well as this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Reminding you guys that you can watch my crazy tumblr (same name – mortenavida) if you want. I don't hold back in posting my ships (slash, het, anything) or opinions. You can also ask me anything there and I'll answer it.

Sorry for the late and somewhat short chapter. I'm going through more personal stuff than I really want to handle, so finding time to write this hasn't been easy. Other projects are also fighting for attention, so thank you for being so patient with me.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Harry had forgotten what home life was like before Clint, apparently. Twice he had almost called Hermione by her name instead of "Pepper." He did called Blaise "Slimy Slytherin" once, but thankfully Bruce had taken it as some kind of joke and said nothing about it. In the long run, Harry hated having to censor himself in a place he wanted desperately to call home. Sure, he had to do it back when Clint was a creepy bird-watcher, but somehow this felt worse.

Clint texted him at least three times a day, giving random updates on almost everything. "Coulson won't stop asking about you." Or, "Fuck, New Mexico is going to be boring." And the funniest, "Hey, my boss is so awesome he just kicked some ass at a gas station while buying me donuts." Harry had been promised the full story behind that later.

He also called every night and Bruce was nice enough to completely leave the room. Agent Romanoff would sulk around until she got tired and disappeared into her rented room. Harry didn't trust her not to listen in, so his conversations were still subdued on his end. Clint understood his paranoia and kept things that were between them quiet.

Harry and Bruce were sitting and watching a rerun of Justin Hammer's hilariously failed attempt at drones from earlier that day. Really, it was embarrassing that Harry had given the man an open slot, especially since the Navy drones shorted out and fell to pieces on stage. It was the first time Harry had heard Bruce laugh since he arrived.

The third time they watched Justin Hammer crawling away from the wreckage on stage (Harry would swear to the grave that the man was actually crying), his phone rang. Harry looked at the ID and his grin widened.

"Gotta take this, Bruce. No, no, don't get up." Harry stood, pushing the man back down. "Just relax."

"If you say so."

"I do." Harry put the phone to his ear. "You're late, Barton. I'm disappointed in you."

"_Night from hell. Are you near your toys?_"

"I can be." Harry stepped into the elevator and hit the button for his lab. "What happened?"

"_You remember how I said we were protecting a damn hammer?_" Harry made a noise of agreement. "_Some idiot broke into base to try and steal it. I'm going to watch Coulson question him and I wanted to know if you could stand to watch a movie_."

Harry rolled his eyes and stepped into the lab, waving a hand to turn on the computers. It wasn't magic, just Jarvis, but it was still cool. "Patch me in, but I want audio as well."

"_You're the supposed genius here, fuck. Give me a second._"

It didn't take long for one of the screens to show a security feed. Harry settled down in front of it and put Clint on speaker so he didn't have to hold the phone. "The room is empty, idiot."

"_No wait! He's right outside—there. See?_"

Harry arched an eyebrow as the door slid open and Coulson walked a tall, blond man into the room. His muscles were insane and his stance, though defeated, screamed out someone who thought they were better than others.

"That guy broke in? He's huge!"

Clint laughed. "_Yeah, well, we got several people here with bloodied noses and broken bones. Wherever he's from, he's well trained._"

"Hm… If he were here, I'd scan him." Harry leaned forward, trying to get a better look as Coulson asked him various questions. The man didn't even acknowledge them. "Why didn't he take the hammer?"

"_Same as everyone else. He couldn't lift the damn thing_."

"Hm." Harry pulled up another screen. "Send some pictures of it to me. I'll have Jarvis scan it."

"_Na, we already know what it is. I don't believe it, but they do. Go look up some Norse mythology._"

Harry figured Hermione would enjoy it more, so he wrote himself a note to ask her about it. "Cool. So hey, who's that other guy in the room with Mister Break-In?"

Clint was silent for a moment. "_What other guy_?"

"There's a guy in the room and they're talking. I can't hear anything, but something's happening."

There was a shuffle on the other end. "_Tony, there's nobody else in the room_."

Suddenly, the man disappeared and Coulson returned. Harry swore, adjusting his screen so he could see all the cameras for the compound. He spotted him almost instantly by the hammer.

"Clint, I'm not messing around. He's staring at the hammer now."

Clint was quiet for a few moments. Then, "_Hammer is in sight and I see nobody but our own guys. What do you see, Tony_?"

"Flash something, let me know where you are." There was a glint on one of the screens. "Okay, about three o'clock from your point of view, there's a man reaching out to the hammer. How can you not see this?"

"_Can I trust you?_"

"When can you not? He's trying to pull—" Harry stopped talking as an arrow flew through the man –_through_ him- and embedded itself in the mud.

"_How the hell am I going to explain this? There was nobody there!_ _I don't…_"

Harry shifted in his chair. "He's looking right at you." Then the man turned and stared straight at the camera. He smirked at Harry and disappeared. "Well shit."

"_I am officially creeped out._"

"What did you feel?"

Harry watched as Clint jumped down to retrieve the arrow. "_Like something just crawled into my head and poked around._"

That wasn't just a normal man, though Harry figured that as soon as he saw him. No, that was a wizard. A _powerful_ wizard. "I need you to tell me if you feel that again. I don't care what I'm in the middle of, okay? Send me some kind of sign."

"_Are you okay?_"

"Yeah, just paranoid. Promise me, Barton."

"_Fine, fine. I promise._" Clint sighed and looked up at the camera. "_I'm going to go talk to Coulson, see if there was something funny caught on cameras. I'll give you an update later._"

"Thanks." Harry smiled at the small wave that Clint gave before he turned off the screens. Not two seconds later, someone knocked on the lab windows. Harry smiled at a nervous-looking Bruce before waving him in. "Jarvis, unlock the door."

Bruce pushed open the door, but he didn't come too far into the lab. "Sorry for interrupting."

"Not a problem. What can I do for you?" Harry motioned toward a stool next to him. "Have a seat. Sorry it isn't more comfortable, but I might have set the cushion on fire the day I got in here. Not really sure what happened and I don't remember—"

"Your reactor is made with Palladium, yes?"

"-exactly what I … you… um." Harry stumbled over his words before finally turning his mouth off. That hadn't been what he was expecting at all.

Bruce looked anywhere but at him, wringing his hands against a frayed part of his over shirt. "It's just… I followed you stuff even when I was on the run and I heard from the papers that you were kidnapped. Word-of-mouth travels faster than paper sometimes, so I heard a rumor that you broke into their weapons shed, ripped apart a few missiles, and made the thing that saved your life."

That was so much cooler than what actually happened. Harry looked away, back to the blank screen that Clint had just been on. "Your point, doctor?"

"Is it true?"

Harry sighed. "Certain aspects of that are. For once, it seems as though my WMD's saved someone rather than slaughtered them."

"So you're using Palladium. Or you were using it until you got back, right?"

What else was he supposed to use? Harry pushed a pen across his desk, frowning as it toppled over the edge. "Palladium is efficient for what the reactor needs to—"

"Are you an _idiot_, Stark?" Bruce stepped closer. "I thought you were smart, a genius that the world hasn't seen in years. You built an armor to protect people. You take down terrorists and brush it off as if everybody could do that."

"Bru—"

"And you're still using _Palladium_?" Bruce's eyes seemed to green a little, but that was surely a trick, right? "Answer me, Stark."

"You have big balls coming in here to try and force things out of me."

"You have no idea how big they are. I need to see everything you have on the reactor in your chest."

Harry frowned, pushing his chair back to put distance between them. "Yeah, no. Not going to happen."

"Do you want to die? Is that it?" The scowl that had just been on Bruce's face deflated. Harry felt bad for making him upset, but only a little. "Tony Stark has a death wish?"

Harry shrugged. "There's nothing that can replace it, sorry. I've looked."

"You're an engineer. What you need doesn't involve robots or building things or figuring out how to put roller blades into your suit." Bruce pulled the charred stool closer and settled down in it. "Tell me everything you know, Stark, because we're not going to stop until we find something."

"Why do you care?" Harry hesitated before pulling himself back to the desk. "Why bother with helping me through this?"

"You know, maybe the question you should be asking is why don't _you_ care." Bruce motioned to the screens. "Bring up the periodic table before I start reciting this and let's go through what you've tried."

"Well that's easy. I haven't tried a damn thing."

The smile that came to Bruce's face was both terrifying and reassuring. "Then there's still hope that something can replace it. Come on, use that brain I know you have and let's get to work."

Harry really wished Hermione were here, but he settled himself into working through this for now. He would worry about Clint and Mister Mystery later.

* * *

So before I get a bunch of stuff for "oh my god, so many people are finding stuff out" (because I know it's coming in future chapters), let me remind you guys that Harry is now heavily involved in SHIELD. Three out of the five that work with him know who he is. Natasha is not an idiot, and Coulson and Bruce aren't that non-observant. A lot of it will happen faster than you expect and especially faster than Harry's ready for. He's had eleven years of awesome luck when it came to this business and, well, luck runs out eventually.

I also had a reader question I figured I'd answer here. They asked: how Harry makes himself look like Tony. What kind of magic is he working? Is he transfiguring his features or using some sort of glamour/charm? Does he have to touch it up or does his magic maintain it, and thus that's why, when his magic was diminished, he returned to looking like Harry? Also, was Hill looking to see if she could see his scar, or could she actually see it?

So here's where we get into reason number two on why this particular crossover exists (the first being that I had never seen it and wanted to). I read a fic a while ago where Tony and Pepper adopt Harry and someone from the wizarding world mentioned that Harry passed extremely well for their son as he resembled Tony (not as much as James, obviously) and both parents looked like James and Lily. That stuck with me and I saw the connections and realized that hey, it's actually pretty plausible! So the resemblance is already close enough and yeah, at first Harry used a bit of magic to make himself look identical to the 17-year-old Tony. However, as the years went on and he grew up, he slowly let that magic go so it looked natural. At this moment, he's using absolutely no magic to keep his image up (so Harry's Tony obviously looks a little different from RDJ's, but they're close enough). Maria was looking to see if she could see his scar and I can't believe I've been an idiot and have yet to mention that particular attribute here. Shame on me! Do you guys think plastic surgery would get rid of a curse scar? :P


	10. Chapter 10 - Interlude

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: There's been back and forth on the curse scar and I'm honestly amazed by your opinions, guys! I wish this was more like a forum because I think it would be a nice discussion. (Can't help it – I love fandom discussions.)

Moving on to our shortest installment so far… so here, have some Plot. (Please note that I have seen both previous Hulk films only once each a long time ago and I'm officially going by memory. Aka, don't complain when things are super different. As it is, Bruce came to the tower before the blood-in-the-soda incident from the second one.)

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Interlude**

_General Ross:_

_The Gamma Beast Team have tracked the monster across South America. Spotted him outside of the Brazil coast, but he disappeared shortly after. Signal is currently being tracked further._

_-GBT_

_General Ross:_

_No change in three months._

_-GBT_

_Ross:_

_He hides well, this monster._

_-GBT_

_Found a lock and a visual. He's being careless and has been seen with a woman for the past two days. Moving in tomorrow._

_-GBT_

_She moved him. We fired a tracker and now wait for it to boot so we can see if it takes hold._

_-GBT_

Ross stared at the latest message with a hard frown. He needed to find better people to track down the beast if he escaped again. For now, he needed a team that could go to wherever this mysterious woman took him to and get him out. He crinkled the last letter in his fist and looked up, across the dining room table to his beautiful daughter. His lovely little girl.

"Do you still have feelings for the beast?" he asked, voice low.

Betty's eyes widened and Ross was about to repeat his question when she shook her head. "Of course not. He is a monster."

"And what do people like us do, my dear?"

She shivered, but Ross knew that it was simply because it was cold in the house. "We hunt them. We find where they're hiding and we hunt them down."

"Yes, yes we do." Ross stood and walked around the table. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. This nightmare will be over soon, okay? The monster won't hurt you anymore."

The tears she held back, and the lone tear that escaped, was because of her nightmares. Ross wanted to drive them away. He wanted to find Bruce Banner and make him pay for harming his baby girl. She was warped by the beast, thinking that he loved her, but Ross knew the truth. Nothing that monstrous could love anything.

"Don't go far today, Betty. I should be getting a notice about where the beast is very soon." He ran his fingers through her hair. "We'll destroy this together."

He stood there, petting his lovely daughter's hair, until his phone buzzed. Not pausing in his movements, he pulled the device out with his free hand and grinned at the message there.

_Stark Tower_.

It was so very close. Ross laughed and finally pulled away to go into his office. He had a phone call to make, plans to put forth, and a beast to capture. Stark had his Expo running and, as luck would have it, he knew a few people in the security team that owed him favors. They would start there.

He put the phone to his ear as it rang on the other end. It didn't take long to pick up. "Duncan, hello! It's Ross."

"_Thunderbolt! Hey, you caught me on my break. I thought you were in Argentina._"

"Far from it, I'm in Virginia." Ross took a seat behind his desk. "Listen, I need a favor."

"_Make the request quick, okay? We got—_"

"I want in on the security detail at the Expo. Me and a few of my men." Ross pulled out a few files on Banner. "No need to pay us, just get us in and get us close to wherever Stark is. He has something of mine."

"_Ah, I'm not sure if I can do all of that. How many are you bringing in?_"

Ross scowled as he came across a picture of Banner and his daughter. He should have stopped that sooner. "Just an extraction team. Five or so."

"_Can I call you back later about this? I can't_—"

"Call me when you have a spot for us." Ross hung up the phone before another word was said.

What would Stark want with a beast? Experimentation? No, the billionaire didn't seem the type. A strange security gimmick? Hulk would cause more harm than good, the mindless thing. Then _what_? Ross shoved the papers off the desk, watching as they fluttered to the floor.

"What do you want with my beast, Stark?"

* * *

Rooooss. Ross, you fucker.

November is National Novel Writers Month and this if my "day one" crack so far! ~700 isn't that bad, if I do say so myself. Another 1k and I'm done for the day! What does this mean for _Changing Tides_ and _Finding Fate_ (and my boatload of other fic)? Well, I'm not doing an official novel this year – I'm just using it to get my butt in gear and get me back to putting words on paper every day. In the long run, this could possibly mean faster updates because I'm making more time for writing! We'll see how it goes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Another short one – but I managed to hit my NaNo goal for today with it! Now I just need to go make up for yesterday because my word count was a big, fat zero. Stuff happens, I'm missing Edwin, and more stuff.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Harry felt as if he were playing a dangerous game of hide and seek, only be was doing both the hiding and the seeking all at once. While Bruce now knew of the Palladium issue, the rest of the tower didn't. Neville, Hermione, and Blaise were told about the strange man Harry had seen (and he still didn't know why he had been the only one), but they were the only ones that knew. Romanoff was kept in the dark about _everything_ despite how hard she tried to eavesdrop and, frankly, Harry was tired of it. All he wanted to do was stand in the middle of his living room and scream out everything that was going on.

Instead, he sent a letter off to Malfoy, requesting potion ingredients. Sure, the blond git would question why Blaise's boss needed the strange list, but Harry had an idea for that. Bruce was researching human biology, after all, and Harry (as Tony) _had_ promised to give him random things to test with. Or so the entire house thought.

So Blaise would think they were for Bruce, Bruce would think they were home remedies Harry thought of, and nobody else would know anything.

Harry rubbed his eyes, tired in every bone in his body. He didn't want to admit it to Hermione and get her "I told you so" speech, but the Expo was becoming a bad idea. He couldn't concentrate on that and his own issues at the same time – it was giving him a massive headache. Thankfully Hermione and Blaise were doing most of the work on that front, but it didn't ease his mind. He was Tony Stark and he should be at his own events, giving speeches and shaking hands.

"Earth to Tony."

Harry jumped as something sharp poked his side. "Christ, Bruce, what was that for?"

Bruce shrugged. "You were staring off into the wall and didn't respond the first eight times I tried to call your name. Everything okay?"

"Just peachy. I mean hell, here I am working my ass off when, in a year, I might not even have one." Harry rubbed his eyes again, feeling a little guilty about snapping at Bruce, but not really wanting to apologize either. "When was the last time we slept?"

"I slept about three hours ago." Bruce handed him a glass with a sickly green liquid in it. "Here. I found your notes and followed them exactly. Did one of your relatives believe in witchcraft or something?"

That was Bruce-speak for "I found your potions text and I'm a little weirded out by it." There went the home remedy idea. Harry shrugged and wrapped both hands around the glass, letting it get some kind of temperature in it since this particular potion always came out almost frozen. Sometimes, magic and the way ingredients mixed really sucked.

"Something like that," Harry told him. "The headache stuff worked in the past, so there's no reason this shouldn't."

"I saw something called a Calming Draught in there. Think it would work?"

The hope in his eyes jerked Harry's heart around in his chest. He smiled softly and reached a hand forward to rest it on Bruce's shoulder. "Buddy, I think you got this calm thing down well enough."

"It wouldn't hurt to try." He shrugged and Harry figured it was mostly to get the hand off his shoulder. "For now, meditation works."

"Anything else you're trying?" Harry leaned back again to flip through a few elements on the screen in front of him.

"I tried opium once. A few other drugs across the places I ran." Bruce flicked his hand, sending a mass of data toward Harry. "Nothing seems to help."

"Maybe fighting it isn't what you should be doing." Harry stared at the data, his eyes reading, but his brain not processing. "Maybe you should start accepting who you are."

"A monster?"

"A man trying to do good in the world in his own way." Harry shrugged and sent the data back. "I'm an engineer, Bruce, not a biologist. What does this mean?"

Bruce eyed him for a moment before sighing. "Can you have Jarvis bring this—Ah, thanks." He stood as soon as Jarvis brought the information to project into the room. "You tried about six of the elements, but you didn't try combinations. I don't want to get your hopes up—"

"My hopes are pretty low."

"—but I don't think there's a good chance of us finding a replacement." Bruce poked at a few things, knocking off bits and pieces. "Less than fifteen percent."

Harry stared at the chart in front of them. "I've died nearly six times in my life," he said finally. "When I was a year old, several times through my schooling, once when I was seventeen, and then once while I was in Afghanistan. I plan on living out my full nine lives, Doctor Banner."

"Not all of us are cats." Bruce took his glasses off to rub his nose. "One day, our luck is going to run out."

Harry had nothing to say to that. He looked away, lips pressed together and trying not to think about how unfair this was.

"Tony, I think you should tell the others."

The image flickered a bit behind Bruce and Harry made a face. He would need to look at the coding again, make sure the wires weren't crossed (as he had done the first time he installed Jarvis). "I'm not telling them anything."

"Keeping this to yourself is going to kill you more than the Palladium."

Harry pushed his chair back roughly and stood. "Don't, Bruce, just don't. This is _my_ choice and I won't tell them. They don't need to fret and worry about my body or my health right now, okay? We have bigger things to focus on."

"Tony—"

"And we're going to find a cure. _You're_ going to find it because you're _brilliant _at this stuff. We're going to keep everything about the Palladium poisoning to this lab and it won't leave it, understood?"

Bruce looked away, fingers gripping tightly to the desk near him. "I disagree, but this is your house. I understand."

"Good. I'm going to make some lunch, do you want anything?"

Bruce shook his head. "Not really. Bring down the leftovers and I'll eat that."

Harry nodded and left the lab as quickly as he could. The ride up to his penthouse was silent (the elevator used to have cheesy music, but Harry had put a stop to that as soon as he got in), as was the floor once he stepped out. Neville was at the expo with Hermione and Blaise while Romanoff was probably still in her borrowed room.

No, scratch that. She was leaning over his dining room table watching a screen on the surface. Harry took a step closer and frowned when he heard the audio coming out of it.

"…_at this stuff. We're going to keep everything about the Palladium poisoning to this lab_—"

She flicked her fingers and the video jumped back a few seconds, repeating his words again. Harry narrowed his eyes, shoved his hands in his pockets, and leaned against the door frame.

"Fury swore he wouldn't send any more spies on me, but I always pegged him for a dirty liar," Harry told her. Romanoff simply replaced the video, saying nothing. He sighed and looked away. "So you brought the good doctor here in order to diagnose and do what? Try to save me?"

"I had no idea why Director Fury wanted Doctor Banner here. I advised him that it was unwise to have an untamed animal in a city like this." She finally looked up, eyes burning holes in Harry's brain. "Now that I know the reason, I'm confused. Who knows of this, Stark?"

There was no point in lying to her. "Me, you, and Bruce."

"Your friends are kept in the dark?"

"Don't play stupid with me, Agent." Harry pushed off the doorframe and sat across from her. "What's your real question? How did you even know what to look for?"

"It's my job to know things, Stark. I researched your reactor and the ingredients to how it works. It wasn't hard to come to this conclusion." Her eyes lowered. "Agent Barton—"

"Doesn't know either." Harry felt a little guilty as her fingers twitched and tried not to think about how easy it was for someone to figure out he was dying. Clint didn't talk much about who he knew at SHIELD, but he did know that this particular Agent was close to him. "Don't tell him."

"You don't think he already knows?"

"If he did, he wouldn't be in New Mexico." Harry shook his head. "Lay off, Agent. I know what I'm doing."

"We have no record of you dying as an infant."

Harry tried not to laugh, a little glad that Fury was right in some things. His Agents obviously didn't know who he was. "Unfortunate accident. I'm still alive."

"And your schooling?"

This wasn't really a good thing, but Harry was glad for once that Stane had an obsession for trying to kill Tony Stark. "You didn't read all the reports? My lab exploded at one point."

"You weren't in there."

Harry clutched at the spot above his reactor. "My heart! Agent, my life _is_ my lab. And before you ask, seventeen was my car accident." Seventeen was when he finally managed to kill Voldemort, the bastard. "Afghanistan is what your people tried to debrief me on. Are we _done_ talking about this?"

"You need to tell Clint."

He was going to get in trouble one day with this whole empathy thing he had with upset people. Not that she showed she was upset, but Harry could tell. He offered a small smile and reached forward to take her hand. She flinched and tried to pull away, but Harry held fast.

"Romanoff, Natasha… You want me to tell Clint something he doesn't want to hear right now. No, he doesn't _need_ to hear it right now. I've done the tests, I'm not going to die anytime in the next few weeks. If life sucks, it'll be a year. If life doesn't suck, it could be five. I don't want to live with people looking at me as if I'll break." Harry squeezed her hand once before pulling away. "I'll make my amends to the world before I go. I'll make sure my loose ends are tied up."

"Stark, your company isn't on stable ground yet."

"It still has Pepper. It's crawling out of the hole I put it in." Harry stood and went to the attached kitchen. "Grilled cheese?"

It took a long time for her to answer. "I expect two slices of ham between my swiss cheese."

Harry grinned and opened his fridge. "Wouldn't dream of making them any other way."

* * *

Don't be fooled by this somewhat easy/short chapter. Shit is hitting the fan soon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: I am so not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. Boo! Also, remember that I fail at fighting scenes. Go me!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Harry appreciated Bruce and Natasha simply because neither of them treated him like an invalid child. As much as he loved Hermione, she had a tendency to mother hen him and that was reason number six that he didn't want her to know. He would tell Blaise, but despite everything, he couldn't keep a secret from Hermione to save his life. Harry wanted desperately to tell Neville, but Neville would eventually drop too many hints to the others.

So he and Bruce (and sometimes Natasha) sat in his lab, pouring over elements and biology texts and Malfoy's potions ingredients (Harry's "home-made recipies" materials). He had to hide the toads after he caught Natasha cooking one, but otherwise things went okay enough.

Clint called again, giving him no news on the mysterious person Harry had seen. They released the blonde intruder and things were getting weird, but he said he had it all handled. Harry trusted him and he said as much before handing the phone to Natasha.

That had been three hours ago. Now he stood behind the curtain of yet another stage preparing to show off another invention that would wow the masses. The newest StarkPhone with all the bells and whistles and twice the battery life. He already had hundreds pre-ordered before the presentation started, so he wasn't sure why he had to do this.

"Two minutes, Mister Stark." Hermione stepped forward to adjust his tie. "Do you remember what you're going to say?"

"I remember."

"Have fun, then." Hermione laughed and pushed him closer to the curtain.

Harry rolled his eyes and waited for his cue before walking onto the stage. He waved to the crowd, blowing a few kisses here and there, as he stepped center-stage. The crowd seemed divided: half for him, and half for the actual product he was revealing. Harry could ignore the screaming well enough, but he let them go on for a bit longer before motioning for silence. Once it got quiet, he smiled and started his presentation.

He got through the updated contact list feature and was moving onto texting and email when something in the city exploded. The noise wasn't loud, but Harry could see the fireball from here, Stark Tower reflecting the explosion in its windows. Not good.

The crowd had noticed that something happened by the time Harry managed to get himself moving. Hermione already had the suitcase set up on the floor and he spent a few seconds getting it settled on him. By the time his HUD flickered to life, she was already gone, helping get people out of there.

"Call Bruce, Jarvis!" Harry pushed into the air, wasting no time in going back to the tower.

The 'call failed' image on the screen mocked Harry the entire way to the tower. Or it would have if a large, green shape hadn't jumped out at him halfway there. Harry quickly came to a stop and turned to watch the man-turned-monster jumped toward the expo.

"_Iron Man, we request your assistance!_"

Harry looked down to see a man on top of a tank yelling at him through a megaphone. Harry frowned. "What happened?"

"_The best escaped and we're trying to bring it in. The man you knew as Bruce Banner is a fraud and _that_ is his true form_!"

Harry stared at the older man for a second before turning and speeding toward the Hulk. Toward _Bruce_, not the monster. Whoever that man was, Harry knew his type. Men quick to judge others by their outward appearance. Harry knew Bruce had the ability to do this, but he didn't think he would see it. Granted, he thought the same thing of Remus, but things turned out okay. This would end up okay.

He called Hermione just in case and quickly explained the situation. At least, as much information about the situation as _he_ understood. Someone was after Bruce, someone that would call him a monster, and that wasn't going to fly. Hermione hung up quickly and Harry trusted her to do what was needed to be done.

It didn't take long for him to catch up to Bruce, now in the form of the Hulk, rampaging through the city. There were other tanks and screaming people and more mess than Harry ever wanted to see again. He moved the suit to intercept where Bruce was going.

"Bruce! Bruce, I need you to stop!" Harry hovered so his hands were facing down, trying not to look like a threat. "It's me, Tony!"

The Hulk hesitated for a split second before his hand reared back and smacked Harry out of the sky. Harry hit the side of a building and fell to the ground, glad that the suit took most of the damage and his magic took care of how hard he fell. It still hurt and he held back a groan as he stood up.

"Bruce, listen to me!" Harry got back in the air, following the Hulk in the middle of the expo. This was _not_ where they needed to be. "Bruce!"

The Hulk jerked around and caught Harry in one of its hands. Harry's eyes widened as the Hulk's fist tightened and part of the metal bit into his skin. He was jerked closer to the green face and the Hulk roared into his face.

"B-Bruce, please!"

"HULK NO GO BACK."

The suit tightened more and Harry couldn't help but cry out a bit. "Bruce—"

His screen flickered and Natasha's face suddenly popped up in the bottom corner. "_Mister Stark, I suggest you don't piss him off any further_."

"Yeah, noted. What the hell are you doing?" Harry squeezed his eyes shut and focused on trying to breath under the pressure.

"_Fixing my mistake. I should have stayed in the to—_"

"For hell's sake, Natasha, shut up!" Another tank showed up and fired at the Hulk. Harry felt as if he were in some spinning ride as he was jerked around in the Hulk's fist.

She sighed. "_I have information on your enemies, Stark, so listen. The man attacking is Gender Thaddeus Ross. Banner was working for him during the accident and Ross went insane._"

Harry grunted as the Hulk let him go and he again dropped to the ground. "Just what I need, another insane leader."

"_You can't stop the Hulk and I wouldn't suggest it._"

"Stop Ross, got it." Harry pushed himself up and grunted as his magic pushed the metal of his suit enough so he could breathe again. "Is everyone okay in the tower?"

"_Your butler has a small concussion from where he was hit, but the employees are fine. Most weren't here_."

"Thank you, Agent Romanoff." Harry cut the connection and flew back into the air. He made sure to stay out of the Hulk's reach this time and looked toward the tanks. They weren't shooting at him, probably because they thought he would help them. "Fat chance," he murmured.

He got two of them down before they realized he wasn't exactly on their team. Swearing at the sudden fire from one of the three remaining, Harry turned and shot further into the air to get away from the shots.

This fight was different from Stane, but it reminded him of Quidditch in a way. As long as he thought of the stuff aimed at him as Bludgers, he would be fine. Maybe. Harry grunted as one nicked his suit, but he managed to settle himself enough to keep flying. He aimed and prepared to take his shot against the stupid thing, but he never got the chance.

Another tank, being held by the Hulk, came swinging down right on top of the one firing at Harry. Then the Hulk picked it up and slammed it down once more; it would have been almost funny if there weren't _people_ in them.

"Bruce, wait! Bruce!" Harry dropped down so he could attempt to wrap an arm around the Hulk's massive one. "Stop, it's okay now!"

"HULK PROTECT METAL MAN AND PUNY BRUCE!"

Harry grunted as he held on tight. "I appreciate it, but we're safe! I'm safe!"

The tank dropped one more time and the Hulk let go. Harry still held on, but turned the thrusters on so he could try to bring the Hulk out of the center of destruction. He had tried before to think of Bruce as Remus, but this was not the case. The Hulk was smarter than a werewolf, so maybe he could be reasoned with? It was worth a shot.

"I just want to sit by the large globe, okay?" Harry made sure the tugs were gentle. "See that big circle with the lights? Let's sit over there."

"HULK SIT ON TOP."

"What? No—Wait!"

It was too late. With Harry still attached, the Hulk jumped off the ground and made his way to the globe in the center of the expo. Thankfully, most of the guests were already gone, so they didn't squish anyone on the way there. The mess they left behind was a bigger issue and part of Harry was glad that most of it was within the property of the expo. At least the city wouldn't demand repayment for it and Harry could just let the matter rest. Or mostly rest.

Once the Hulk settled on the globe, he took hold of Harry and roughly put him on one massive shoulder. Harry was reminded of the picture Hagrid had of his parents and he grinned behind the faceplate. The Hulk wasn't as big as Hagrid's mother, but that hardly mattered to Harry's imagination.

"So, big guy, want to tell me what happened?"

The Hulk grunted and his head turned, no doubt watching for more enemies. Harry tried not to notice the flames that had yet to be put out.

"Bruce?"

"PUNY MAN NOT HERE."

Harry winced and turned down the volume for his suit, though he probably could have turned it off and still heard him. "Okay… so Hulk?"

"HULK PROTECT."

That was obvious, but that still left plenty of questions. "Protect Bruce?" He grinned as the Hulk's shoulders straightened and Harry figured he felt proud. "And me?"

"METAL MAN HELP HULK EVEN WHEN HULK NEED NO HELP." He reached up to poke one of Harry's feet and Harry had to hang on in order to not fall off. "PUNY MAN LIKE METAL MAN."

"You talk to Bruce like this?"

The Hulk shook his head. "PUNY MAN NO TALK. HULK JUST KNOWS."

Harry patted the Hulk's head with a small sigh. "Okay, buddy, okay. Mind if Bruce comes back, though? We need to get him home and away from all of this."

"TALL PLACE IS BAD. TOWER IS WHERE BAD MAN SHOOT."

"Bad man is going to get his ass kicked by metal man, okay? And metal man's friends." Harry pointed toward the tower. "But its home and I'm sure Bruce will want a bed. I'm sure he'd be glad that you protected his home, too."

Hulk frowned, his fist clenching on the globe and bending it a little. "BRUCE LIVE IN TALL PLACE?"

"For as long as he wants to. I wouldn't mind you there, either." Harry ignored the call from Blaise that came up in the suit. He would call him later. "Please, Hulk? I promise next time I see you, we can go to the ocean."

"LARGE WATER?"

"Yep, large water." Harry patted the Hulk's head again. "What do you say, big guy?"

Hulk stared off into the distance for a while before nodding. Before Harry could say anything else, the Hulk had him in his hands again. "HULK TAKE METAL MAN."

After jumping through the air with the Hulk, Harry decided that he'd rather travel by Portkey.

* * *

Friendly reminder that if you truly enjoy an actor's work, do not need to be a dickhead to them. Especially if that actor has done nothing but give to his/her fans and truly wants nothing in return. They do not deserve your threats or tricks or stupidity. They do not deserve you prying into their private life, especially when they take great steps in order to keep that part of their life _private_. Back off.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: I must say that "Gender Thaddeus Ross" is now my most favorite typo I have ever done. The brain commands, but the fingers don't listen. Sorry, guys! And hey, look! An update before I leave for the con! Thank you for all the support and understanding – I appreciate it! Just wish this could be longer for you.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Fury waited in Harry's kitchen, well out of the way of the Hulk. Harry left the big, green guy in the living room with some show called _Little Shop of Horrors_. Harry hadn't seen it, but Hulk had been excited when Jarvis flipped past that channel so it stayed there. As long as the Hulk was entertained until Bruce came back, Harry really didn't care what channel it was on. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be in the room with the Hulk, or the room with Fury, though.

"That was quite a display, Stark." Fury walked slowly around the island counter, hands behind his back. "You should have let us handle it."

"You're joking, right?" Harry opened the cabinet and brought down a cup of applesauce. "The Hulk doesn't respond to force and since it didn't take me that long to figure it out, you should have already known."

"Not all of us are at genius-level thinking."

Harry stared at Fury for a long moment before scowling and looking around the room. Fury knew he wasn't at Tony's level, so there had to be someone hiding that he didn't want to know. "Who's here?"

The corner of Fury's lip twitched up as Natasha walked in with a tall, brown-haired woman. She looked nervous, her hands clutched in the fabric of her sweater, but her stance was steady next to the two SHIELD agents. Harry wasn't relaxed, but he forced himself into something that looked like relaxation, leaning his body against the counter as he ate the applesauce.

"This is Betty Ross," Natasha said. "Miss Ross, this is Mister Stark. He has been housing Doctor Banner for a short while."

Harry waved his spoon at her. "Ross, right? Wasn't that the name of the guy who tried to kill my big, green friend earlier?"

"My father has gone a little insane," Betty said quickly. "Bruce was his best scientist and they spoke endlessly about curing the world together."

"And then the accident happened."

"Yes," Betty agreed. "And then the accident happened. My father was never the same after that, sorry. I tried to find Bruce by myself, but my father found out and I just… He had better resources to find Bruce and I thought…"

Harry sighed, tossing his empty cup to the trash. "You thought that if he found Bruce, you could see him, too. Yeah, I get that."

Betty smiled and motioned toward the living room. "May I see him now?"

"Ah, he's kind of big and green still."

Betty gave Harry a look. "You think that matters to me?"

At that, Harry couldn't help but grin. He didn't know much about Betty Ross, but if that was how she always treated Bruce? Well, she was okay enough. "Go ahead. I'm pretty sure he's a giant teddy bear when people aren't shooting at him."

Betty returned his smile and then disappeared to the living room. The Hulk rumbled something, Betty murmured to him, and Harry then decided to tune their conversation out. He looked back to Fury and Natasha and pointed his spoon at them.

"This is totally not my fault."

"We aren't blaming you, Stark." Natasha crossed her arms. "Though we're glad you decided to destroy most of your expo rather than the city."

Harry winced and stuck the spoon back in his mouth. Hermione was going to lecture his ear off when she returned from damage control. He hadn't even thought about the property they were destroying, too focused on getting them both out of the fight with minimal damage. He would still need to see Miranda soon, but his body wasn't that bad considering. Maybe he should add more cushion to the next suit.

"Pepper told me the expo was a bad idea anyway. Maybe this is for the best?"

"It has been one of your better ideas, actually," Fury said with a shrug. "The race? Not so much. The hot dog contest? Hell no. At least your expo brought in some kind of money."

Harry laughed and put the spoon in the sink. "Enough to turn around and use it to fix what I broke? Sure."

"Stark—"

"Not now, Fury, please. I have enough to worry about." Harry left the kitchen. He glanced in on Betty and the Hulk (who was now Bruce, thank god, and they were talking softly together) before getting into his elevator.

He really should have expected Fury and Natasha to climb in with him.

"Seriously, Fury? I can't get a simple break?"

Natasha's lips quirked, but Fury only scowled further. "I need to debrief you on what happened and then we need to have a meeting."

"We can have our meeting now." Fury's eye went to Natasha and Harry hesitated. The man didn't want her here, which meant he had to mention Harry's past and that was one direction Harry didn't want to go. "Now, Fury."

Fury scowled further at him. "Stark, it has come to our attention that you possess abilities that can be useful to Shield."

"Is this about the Avengers? Because if it's about the Avengers, my answer is still no."

The elevator opened and Natasha stepped out. "I will check on your butler, Stark. You talk to Fury."

She waited until the doors started to close before walking away and Harry cursed at how transparent he had been. So what if he wanted to visit Edwin? The man had been hurt. "Trapped in my own house. I'm changing the security."

Fury ignored the last few minutes and continued like normal. "Yes, this is about the Avengers Initiative. There are things out there that we need to be prepared for and—"

"I'm done being a hero, Fury. At least, the hero that you're asking me to become." Harry leaned against the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Besides, if it's my magic you want, you can't have it. I can barely control it as it is now and I doubt you want some wild card on the field."

"I know, which is why I'm not asking you to join despite the fact that you pack a nice punch with that suit of yours." Fury clasped his hands behind his back. "I'm asking if you wouldn't mind becoming a consultant for us. Help us understand things in specific circumstances."

That didn't sound too bad, but Harry had dealt with men like Fury before. "Ah huh. If that's all you wanted, you wouldn't have come here. You would have asked Natasha or Clint to ask me."

"Agent Romanoff knows nothing about this side of you, and Agent Barton is still in New Mexico. There are… annoying problems over here."

Harry knew that, but he didn't want to get Clint into trouble. He kept silent on that matter. "Natasha doesn't need to know everything in order to ask me to become a consultant."

"She would demand it."

"Doesn't matter. Why did you come to ask me yourself?"

Fury let out a sigh. "You are the only one who can possibly speak to Doctor Banner and my superiors want him on the team. _I_ want him on the team."

They wanted a man who could barely control himself, but they didn't want Harry? He didn't understand that, but it didn't matter. Shield wanted an unstoppable killing machine and that wouldn't do. He didn't need to think too hard to come up with his answer. "No."

"Potter—"

"It's Stark, Fury, and it'll be Stark until the day I die." Harry reached forward to open the elevator doors. "Get out of my tower."

"I could still get Agent Romanoff to ask—"

"Go ahead, be my guest." Harry grinned and hit the button to shut the doors. "Let her ask Bruce to use a part of him he hates. I'd love to see the outcome."

The door closed before Harry could hear Fury's answer and he was glad for that. The only problem was that he was now on a floor that had nothing but offices and people were starting to stare (over time hoarders, seriously). He waved his fingers at them before disappearing into the stairwell; there were only a few floors between this and his penthouse, so the walk wouldn't be that bad.

By the time he reached where he had left Bruce and Betty, he could tell something was wrong. The floor was eerily quiet save for the traffic sounds below. Bruce and Betty weren't in the TV room, nor were they in the kitchen or the bar. Harry searched the place twice, confirmed with Jarvis that the two were no longer in the building, and then frowned.

It was when he later went to his bedroom to change into a more comfortable pair of clothes that he saw the note tacked onto his door. It was from Bruce, but obviously written by Betty (the script was too flowy), and Harry felt his heart sink.

_I'm sorry_, it read. _That's the part of me I wished you had never met. Notes on our project are in my room, the combination is the date I found out, and I wish you well. Thank you for everything, Tony._

Bruce had signed it himself, but the signature was shaky – Remus had signed his name the same way after every full moon. Harry hated Fenrir and he hated gamma radiation and he hated New Mexico and he hated the sickness that took Dudley and he hated the curse that killed Ron and he just _hated_. Hated _everything_.

But he couldn't fall back, now not. Taking a deep breath, he pushed into his room and told Jarvis to call Hermione. She needed to know what happened and, from there, she would tell the others. Harry was simply too tired and too frustrated to care about telling this story more than once.

Tomorrow he would try to find Bruce and bring him back. Tomorrow he would work on the suit. Tomorrow he would remind Fury to kiss his ass. Tomorrow – part of Harry hoped that tomorrow would never come. He just wanted to sleep.

* * *

Clint comes back next time and tells Harry all about Thor. Also I tried to slide it in here, but there never seemed to be a right time. Nat was off getting Betty from Ross the last chapter, which is why she came in a little late to the party.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Thank you for the well-wishes! I hope everyone had a good holiday. :) I had a fantastic weekend at the con – links to cosplay pics are after the chapter. I went as Agent Coulson and my wonderful pup went as Captain America. If you hear about a Captain Corgi or Captain Ameridog, that's mostly likely us!

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Harry had stayed in bed until Hermione returned to the tower. It had taken her crawling under the covers with him, telling him about some silly guest that wanted to sue Harry because her beat-up Camry had been ruined in the fight, before he would actually push himself into a sitting position. He didn't need to ask if she knew about Bruce; the note was clutched in her hand and she had that pitying "I'm so sorry, Harry" look on her face that Harry hated to see, but loved that she had it.

They went together to make sure Edwin was okay and the old man had simply told them to shut up with their mollycoddling and get on with fixing the mess outside. Edwin then threatened that if they didn't peacefully let him out of the bed in two days, he would find a way to crawl out so he could get back to his duties. Harry had promised to get him a motorized chair to help with it, but Edwin only threatened to push it off the roof if Harry tried.

After that, Harry had taken Hermione and Blaise aside and told them to take a vacation. They both tried to argue, but Harry wouldn't hear it; they deserved it, especially since he couldn't remember the last time any of them had a vacation. In the end, both of them agreed that they would finish cleaning up the Expo and then take a few weeks to themselves.

When Harry offered the same vacation to Neville, his friend had shook his head and told Harry that his kind of vacation was to start a garden on the tower roof or one of the balconies, so he would be staying. Harry was grateful that he would have some company in the tower, so he didn't argue that much. He hadn't heard from Clint in days, so he wasn't sure when the archer was returning.

Over the next few days, Fury kept both himself and Natasha away. Harry didn't question the lack of Shield babysitter because he really didn't want to invite another one into his living space. Especially when Miranda showed up to look over his bruises and give him what she had found out about Palladium. If she knew why Harry asked, she didn't mention it and simply gave her report before leaving.

Over all, it was a small vacation for Harry and he was determined to enjoy it. Jarvis (and Edwin when he got up) was looking for Bruce, but the trail had died as soon as he had reached the harbor. The only reason Harry didn't panic and think Bruce offed himself was a fake couple registered on one of the ships there and while nothing about the names screamed 'Betty and Bruce', Harry knew it was them. Face recognition helped.

Harry spent his time locked up in the workshop, trying to keep his focus on Blaise's suit. Bruce's notes on the poisoning were lengthy and filled with things Harry couldn't begin to understand, so he wanted to do something that he _could_ understand. Or at least had enough familiarity with it that he could stumble his way through.

He had just finished perfecting a kind of switchblade in the boot (mostly because the thought of it was cool) when Jarvis announced that he had a visitor. Harry figured it was Edwin bringing him food, so he didn't look up from the wires before telling his AI to open the door and let whoever it was inside.

"It smells worse than a gym locker down here," came Clint's voice along with the smell of cheap, greasy fries.

Harry's stomach growled and he hoped that Clint brought him food. He looked up and grinned, eyes staring at the four bags of fast food in the other's hands. "Have you come in to be my best friend?"

"Thought I already was, behind Rhodey, that is." Clint held out two of the bags and shook them. "Chili dogs, burgers, fries, and an apple pie. You want?"

"Hell yes, I want." Harry pushed away from the wires and motioned to a clean table off to the side. "Sit down and tell me all about New Mexico."

"You want to hear all about my woes with a Norse God?" Clint sighed dramatically and settled down at the table. "Especially when you got to play with the Jolly Green Giant himself?"

"Norse God?"

"Oh yeah, I didn't get to tell you about that." Clint grinned and pulled out his food. "That guy that tried to take the hammer is apparently the Norse God of Thunder."

"Isn't that someone called Thor?" Harry asked, remembering names that Hermione had went on about one day. Mythology had always interested her. "Son of Odin or something?"

"Don't know about his dad, but that's the name he gave. We didn't believe him until he got on his armor and battled this metal thing that Coulson thought came from you."

Harry groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. "Did it even look like something I'd make?"

"Na, more tech was involved." Clint took a bite out of his burger, swallowing almost before he finished chewing. "It was interesting, though. Almost leveled the town."

"Where is he now?"

"Gone home, I guess." Clint shrugged. "Coulson followed him out to the desert and he called for someone to open this bridge thing. Some lights flashed and then he was gone."

"Coulson wasn't happy, I bet."

Clint laughed before shoving the rest of his food into his mouth. "I dun fink is unusual," he said around the food. Harry wrinkled his nose as a bit flew out onto the table.

"English?"

Clint flipped Harry the bird and swallowed. "I'm just saying that he should be used to it by now since you don't tell him anything."

"At least I'm on the same planet." Harry tossed a fry at Clint's head. "How long are you back for?"

"Don't know, but Fury seems to think I'm needed here more." Clint reached into his jacket and pulled out a picture of the Hulk. "I missed this?"

Harry frowned, taking the picture. "You probably couldn't have helped. He gets like that when he's pissed and you like to push buttons."

"Your lack of faith in me is annoying sometimes, Stark." Clint took his drink and stared at it. "I can control myself when I need to."

"Yeah, well, we'll test that when I find him. Does Shield know where he is?"

"What makes you think I'd know that?"

Harry sighed. "Do I seriously need to answer that? You work for Shield, Fury wants me to work with them, so he'd use you. I'm not stupid to politics."

"Fury would have better luck using Nat, but she already told me that she wouldn't do that because you already don't trust her." Clint pushed his glass away. "Don't get me wrong, Nat does her job well, but she's loyal to those that are loyal to her. She and I have an… agreement. If I didn't like you, you'd be in bed whispering all your secrets to her."

"What makes you think she'd be in my bed?" Harry finished his food and got up throw the trash away.

"The fact that before I met you, you slept with half the West Coast?"

Harry hesitated, still hating that aspect of his Tony Stark deception. "Yeah, I guess."

"Who was the last girl you slept with anyway?"

"A reporter, the morning before I went to Afghanistan." Clint was quiet for a moment and Harry felt awkward, so he continued. "Well, last in the bed. I don't sleep with them."

"Seriously?"

Harry shrugged and went back to the table. "You'd be amazed at what I can manipulate, Clint. They were in my bed, but I'm not a whore."

"No, no. You had all sorts of beautiful women and you didn't sleep with _one_ of them?"

A flush went across Harry's face and he couldn't stop it. "Ah, I guess the rumor of the calendar models might be true."

Clint laughed and smacked Harry's arm. "You dog! Spill, man, come on."

Harry grinned a little. Hermione had been upset, Blaise quietly amused, and Neville ignored the situation. He was never one to brag, but it felt _normal_ right now and he wanted that. "Well, February could hold a decent conversation and December was very convincing."

"December was twins, Tony. Which one was convincing?"

The blush on Harry's face deepened and he hide his grin behind his drink. "Never say I didn't try new things back then."

Clint laughed so hard he almost fell off the chair. Harry watched him, hoping the redness in his face would go down because Tony Stark was not a man who would blush at the things he did in the bedroom. If anything, Tony Stark would brag and find something to top that.

Deep down, Harry would never be Tony Stark. "Honestly, though, one just liked watching her sister have sex. It was really awkward and I doubt I'll ever do something like it again."

"I bet they experiment on each other." Clint wiped at his eyes. "Oh god, I owe Nat fifty bucks now. We bet on which rumors might be false and I lost that one."

"Yeah, I can't find it in myself to feel sorry for you." Harry shrugged. "Sorry, pal, your loss."

"I guess so. Hey, you know what else we bet on?"

"What?"

Clint reached forward suddenly and tapped on the reactor through Harry's shirt. Harry was proud that he didn't jerk violently away. "We bet on when you'd come up with a solution."

"I'm getting really tired of people finding this stuff out," Harry muttered, pulling away.

"Super secret spies, Stark. You can't hide much from us." Clint leaned back onto his seat. "Talk to me… Why didn't you say anything before? Why are you keeping it from Pepper? Was it why Director Fury had Doctor Banner come?"

Harry stared down at his hands. "I'm only going to say this once, okay? I'm _dying_, Clint. I'm dying and I don't know how to stop it because I'm not as smart as people expect me to be. I have all of Bruce's notes and I'll do my best, but I doubt it's going to change _anything_." He looked up and stared Clint in the eye. "The last thing I want is people fawning over me, thinking that I'm going to break. I don't go down without a fight, okay? Death has to find me, after all, and I have some ways of hiding from Her."

"Just promise me you won't do anything stupid."

Out of every way Clint could have reacted, that was the one that Harry had been hoping for. No sympathy, no words of encouragement, just acceptance. Harry felt himself relax and he gave Clint a small, but forced smile. He could do this.

"Can't promise anything, but I'll take it into consideration."

"That's all I ask."

They spent the rest of the night exchanging stories about their time separated until Clint yawned and shuffled off to bed. It was only once he was gone that Harry stood and opened his shirt, looking at the barely-there black lines starting to creep away from his reactor.

* * *

And now we see the start of visible reactor damage. Bruce will be back, guys! But his next entrance is pretty much going to mirror how he was brought in for _The Avengers_. For those who hadn't seen _The Incredible Hulk_, I had him leaving in almost the same way (at the end of TIH, he took off after defeating the Abomination – without Betty and still in Hulk form) with obvious changes. Hang tight on that~

* * *

Con pics (I had to go back 98 pages on my Tumblr to find these… oops?):

Add "mortenavida" dot "tumblr" dot "com" backslash to the beginning in order to get the full link.

Day One: post/35876377274/shadocon-day-1-my-pup-as-cap-me-as-coulson-and

Day Two: post/35945485766/shadocon-day-2-marvel-photoshoot-where-cap-bows

We had Shawarma!: post/36010391849/shawarma-at-shadocon-2012

Met Scott McNeil (who molested her haha): post/35997824801/shadocon-day-3-so-far-doubt-ill-take-her-back

Just Kali having an epic time: post/36357099946/rainbowtrolls-niennanir-lavibookman0623


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: I'm so incredibly sorry that this took so long to get out. Work suddenly put me on three days of overtime (the check will be nice, at least) and then I pretty much had a huge mental breakdown over final projects for school and life in general. I've been trying to put my life together, so this wasn't at the top of my list of things to do. Things seem to be evening out (maybe), so hopefully it'll be back to normal. (That's also why this chapter is small, boo on me.)

* * *

**Chapter 15**

A month passed and Harry had to replace his core twice. Before, he had managed to get away with just once a month, but the poison was starting to spread further. The more he used his magic, or the more he used his suit, the faster it spread. The lines didn't extend past his chest, but Harry took to wearing a few layers just in case. Neville questioned the wardrobe (since Hermione and Blaise were still on their vacation), but Harry just said that he felt a little chilly. Clint glared at him with that excuse, but Neville slowly accepted it without a word. Harry didn't want to see the day that Neville had enough with his excuses.

Except for board meetings and frustrations over the notes Bruce left behind, the month was a vacation for Harry. There were no emergencies, Clint got an official notice for time off, and he got to relax back into the mindless routine of playing with electronics. Jarvis popped in with updates (if he had them) to anything Bruce and Betty related, but Harry realized about a week after Bruce left that his new friend probably didn't want to be contacted. Harry still wanted to reach out to him, but they didn't know each other that well.

If his poisoning got too bad, he'd reach out then.

Harry was halfway done with Blaise's own suit when Edwin came into the workshop. Harry offered the man a smile and shut off the welder so there wouldn't be any accidents while the old man was around.

"Didn't expect to see you here. I thought you were on the roof in the garden."

Edwin pulled out a seat and relaxed into it. "I was until Mister Barton came to see me."

"Clint? I thought he was out at some archery thing today."

"I'm sure he was at one point," Edwin said with a shrug. "He just returned from something at Shield."

"Vacation's over, then. Everything okay?"

"For the most part." Edwin reached forward to fix something in one of Harry's plans. "He informed me of a development he thought you'd be interested in. A week ago, Shield picked up a body in the arctic that turned out to be none other than Captain America."

"Captain who?" Harry had never heard of someone with that name, thought it sounded a little familiar. Perhaps something in Howard or Tony's memories? "Sorry, but I don't know who that is."

"I didn't think you would." Edwin brought up another screen and opened a file. "These are his comics, or at least the ones they distributed to try and make him popular among the war-torn people. Using him made people buy more war bonds."

"Sounds like a great guy." Harry opened the first comic so he could swipe through the pages. "Patriotic, much?"

"Captain America," Edwin reminded him. "He was presumed dead in 1945, after he brought down a plane that was en route to the states."

Harry glanced up at Edwin. "You're hiding something from me."

"I'm trying to figure out how to phrase it." Edwin reached forward to open another file. This one held reports and maps of things Harry had never seen. "Master Stark, Howard, spent years trying to find him. He was never one to give up one of his projects, and that's exactly what Captain America was to him. Another science project he created in some basement."

"Captain America is a robot?"

"No," Edwin said with a laugh. "A genetically-altered man with more strength than most know what to do with. He is the only successful trial of the Super Soldier Serum."

"Bruce mentioned that once…"

"He would, considering he was one of the many who tried to recreate it. His mistake brought about the Hulk, while others who made the same mistakes usually died." Edwin placed a gentle hand on Harry's arm. "I know you're going to try and find out what happened, but please know that you won't like what you find. Stark men were always obsessive when it came to what they created."

Harry ignored the main warning to ask, "Am I not being obsessive enough, then?"

"No, but nobody wants you to become that." Edwin stood, squeezing Harry's arm as he did so. "You don't need to become obsessive about things to the point where Howard was. It did nobody any favors to act that way and I'm sure your friends won't appreciate you completely becoming a Stark. You're already halfway there."

"What do you mean?"

Edwin pointedly looked to Harry's chest, but he didn't say another word as he walked out of the lab. Guilt immediately went through his system and Harry stared at the boot in front of him for a moment before swearing and pushing away from the desk. He hadn't told Edwin of his issue, but he was sure the old man knew somehow. Harry was (again) reminded that he had become too lax in his years as another person.

Edwin was right, though; he wanted to find out about this aspect of Howard. He would need to know if Tony was going to react accordingly. He debated going straight to the Pensive, but he knew that Blaise would be even more pissed at him if he did so without someone there to watch him.

That left Neville, since nobody else really knew the extent to a wizard's powers. Perhaps even Miranda if Neville wouldn't do it for whatever reason. He let out a long sigh and told Jarvis to lock down the lab on his way out.

He found Neville and Clint both in the garden and he hoped Clint wouldn't ask too many questions. "Hey, Happy?"

Neville leaned back to look at him. "Do you need something, Mister Stark?"

Harry wrinkled his nose, glad that Neville at least smiled when he asked it. "Your help with something in the lab, that's all."

"Want me to come?" Clint was already pushing to stand.

"Na, just Happy." Harry shook his head. "Believe me, you can't help with this one, Clint."

"Rude." Clint flipped him the bird and settled back in the dirt. "Go help the spoiled boss, Hap. I got this."

"I trust you not to toss them off the roof." Neville motioned for Harry to lead the way. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

They kept silent after that as Harry led Neville back into his lab and through a side door. He had moved the Pensive in here, along with the rest of his spellbooks and other wizard-type things just in case a Shield agent got curious. As he was programmed to do, Jarvis announced who came into the room; Harry ignored the announcement.

"What's this about, Harry?" Neville at least waited until the door closed before asking.

"I need to research something and I promised Blaise I'd only do it under supervision." Harry pulled out the pensive. "I wasn't feeling too well last time I did it, so just… pull me out if you need to, okay?"

Neville frowned, running a hand along the rim. "What are you doing?"

"I'm completely unprepared for reacting to Shield finding Captain America. Howard was obsessed with him apparently." Harry found the right vial of memories and poured them in. "I don't want to do this, but…"

"I know." Neville pulled a screen up on the table next to them. "Do what you need to. I'll do what I can from here, okay? Jarvis and I can look at press statements from Howard."

"Thanks, Nev." Harry gave his friend a smile before taking a deep breath and sinking into memories he would rather never see.

He wondered again if this was worth it.

* * *

You guys have no idea how incredibly excited I am for Chapter 20. I am holding myself back from writing it right now because I can't _wait_ for it to come.


	16. Chapter 16 - Interlude

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: I am again so incredibly sorry that this took so long to get out. I unexpectedly went to another con and then life happened and Christmas! But I figured since the world is ending today, you guys should get another (short, ugh, sorry) chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 16 - Interlude**

_They started closer to New York, since the plane's instruments failed to send in any location readings_.

They wouldn't let him start until after the war ended, and even then they refused to give him the proper equipment to care for a soldier that would be coming out of those conditions. Howard kept up hope that Steve was alive, that the person who embodied a successful experiment wouldn't perish that easily. He couldn't perish that easily because Howard saw the notes on the serum. Not that they went into detail with Steve about the effects, but it took a lot to kill anyone infused with the serum. It was damn near impossible, actually.

Peggy came along with him for the first few years before she had to pull him aside and tell him that it was insane, the project was insane. They needed to stop this. Howard let the degrading names fall from his drunken lips, Peggy walked out, and he never heard from her again. He tried to stop going to the bottle after that, but the amber liquid always called him back.

The search was too slow, always too slow, and Howard found himself caught between his company and Steve. He hired the best men he could find, the best he could _trust_, and sent them out when he couldn't go. He hated every single one of them; when they left full of hope, and especially when they came back full of defeat and frostbite.

Every time they came back empty-handed, Howard would stand in the entrance of his mansion and tell them that Steve, that Captain America, would be disgraced by their lack of commitment. Sometimes men didn't return, sometimes they returned dead, and sometimes they picked up their things and ran as soon as they were finished with a search.

Howard stopped going out when they found the Tesseract, buried in the button of the ocean. Howard tried to call Peggy and ask if Steve mentioned when that was lost, but the woman refused to answer her phone. Howard sent her letters, and they were all returned unopened.

A man approached him a few months later, introduced himself as Peggy's "future husband," and told Howard that if he didn't stop harassing her, he would make sure the engineer's life became a living hell. Howard had smirked and made a comment about Peggy and soon found himself on the floor, his lip bleeding.

He started going out twice a year again, needing something other than his company to distract him from the fact that his only friend was the family butler, Marshall, and his obedient son, and future butler, Edwin. Even then, Howard doubted they enjoyed his company.

* * *

_When that didn't work, they spread out, going further north before sliding to the southern tips of the ice._

Howard tended to hire people that were pleasing to the eye, so it wasn't a surprise when his eye caught one of the mission's workers. Most were always men and he wasn't stupid enough to go after them, but every now and then an extraordinary woman came along. Maria was one such woman, reminding him of Peggy and Steve all at once. She didn't hold back when it came to berating him, but she would then turn and blush, her eyes showing her attraction.

At this point, all Howard saw was a willing body who wanted him.

Despite her want, it took Howard weeks to seduce Maria into his bed. After their first time, it took him another two days to get her there again, and then she never left. Nobody aboard that particular ship said much toward it – they weren't about to talk about the one who signed their paychecks.

She put up with his drinking, his public groping, and his bedding of other women in stride. Neither of them asked for anything past what they had, and Howard generally didn't care.

He was home for a month when Maria showed up on his doorstep, drenched from the downpour outside and looking scared. Howard had barely remembered her name at the time, but he had some fond memories of her face. Though he barely recognized that through the haze of liquor flowing through his system.

Two months later, before she could show her pregnant belly, Howard and Maria got married in a church just outside of downtown New York. They separated into their bedrooms that night, and Howard was gone the next morning on a business trip in Europe. Maria stayed around the mansion, letting the maids and press fawn over her and her new husband.

It was just luck that Anthony Edward Stark was born late and they needed to do an emergency c-section to get him out. But to the press and the people of the world, Anthony Edward Stark was a premature baby who almost died in the womb and had to be removed early. Howard was there for the birth, held his son and heir for a full twenty minutes, and then he was off on his yearly mission to find Steve.

Maria didn't care anymore; she had a son, she had a stable home for her son to grow in, and she would want for nothing material ever again. If she had a running affair with one of the chefs, well, nobody had to tell Howard about it.

Not that Howard cared when he found out.

* * *

_The longer between clues, the more he drank. There were never any clues_.

Howard was working on his fifth glass of whatever Jarvis poured him when his pant leg moved. A little sluggishly, he pushed his maps aside to look down at Anthony. The boy was still small, his mind slow and unable to grasp anything. Maria might have yelled at him about Anthony being young still, but Howard didn't like it. Children should come out knowing things; he had no patience to teach them how to read or use the damned bathroom.

"What are you doing down here?" he asked, trying to focus on one of his son's images as they swirled. Maybe he had too much to drink. The boy was reaching toward him. "Son, I need to work."

Maybe, just maybe, if Howard called him 'son', Anthony would start acting like a Stark. There was no such luck and the baby continued to grab at the air, a strange gurgling coming from him. Howard didn't have time for this.

"It won't kill you to have him sit in your lap," Maria said as she stepped into the room. She smiled (Howard did always like her smile) at Anthony before wiggling her fingers at him. Anthony reached toward her and she laughed, picking him up off the floor. "He's a good boy."

Before Howard could argue the point, Anthony was placed into his lap, his bum right across the file he had on the plane Steve went down in. Howard huffed and forcefully pulled it out from under the boy – the baby didn't seem fazed at all and simply clapped his hands together.

This was not how he imagined his evening going, but he figured he could try. Maybe the boy would get some sense out of the papers. He held them so Anthony could see them and reread from the beginning. Soon enough, he was deep into his thoughts and could almost ignore the weight on his lap. Anthony had fallen asleep and Howard didn't care.

At least, not until Anthony wrinkled his nose and soiled himself, some of it dripping from his diaper and onto Howard's pants. He never allowed Anthony into his lap again.

* * *

_Marriage and a family was a formality. If Howard couldn't find Steve, Tony would. Tony would do it._

Howard was not a bad father – how could he be? He told Anthony stories of heroes and greatness. He gave his son a goal to reach and a person to become. When Anthony was eight, his mind finally growing into what a mind should be, Howard had told him nearly every story he could on Captain America. Anthony, through Howard, had the biggest collection of Captain America memorabilia. He couldn't touch any of it, but Howard did let him press his face against the glass from time-to-time.

By the time Anthony was twelve, his smile didn't reach fully across his face when Howard brought up Captain America. Panicked, because nobody should dislike the Captain, Howard switched tactics and asked his son if he ever told him about a man named Steve Rogers. As he knew it would, Anthony's curiosity spiked and he stepped closer to hear the story.

So Howard told him about the boy behind Captain America. He told Anthony about the stick-thin kid who turned into a hero. He told Anthony about the man with high morals who would do anything for the good of the world. He told Anthony about the man who helped him become someone good. He told Anthony about the man the changed his life.

Most of all, he told Anthony about how important it was to return all of Steve Roger's good deeds by finding him. Because Steve Rogers was invincible. Steve Rogers couldn't die and he wouldn't let anyone down, least of all Howard. Steve Rogers was Howard's best friend and ally, and he was someone that owed the Starks a lot since _they_ made Captain America. _They_ made sure the country was safe during the world. _They_ made sure children could sleep well at night.

Steve Rogers owed the Starks, but the Starks had to find him first. They had to make sure Steve knew that the Starks were the ones that never gave up looking.

Anthony was fifteen when he gave Howard a small idea to help the hunt. It was a good idea, Howard knew, but he didn't like that it took his son to think of it. His son's time would come and he could try it later. He could try it if Howard failed to find Steve.

Howard told him it was a horrible idea, that it wasn't thought out enough, and that Anthony needed to do better if he ever wanted Steve to appreciate being found.

* * *

_It was an illusion._

There was a small hatred for having to bring Anthony to the conference in London. Anthony pulled in people more than Howard ever did. Anthony always had new ideas, better ideas, and Howard didn't know how to reign his heir in. Yes, his son was supposed to be as smart as him, but not smarter. Not better at creating things. That robot and the basic notes of an intelligence program scared him. How was he supposed to live up to that?

This would have to do. "Come on, what do you say to seeing what this car can do? We've got some time before we need to be there."

Anthony straightened in his seat and Howard felt some small sense of victory that he could still control his son when it counted. He would just need to play around with variables more, change things when Anthony began to get comfortable. Keep him guessing.

"Come on, dad," his son said, "let her go. I bet she can push a hundred and twenty."

The car sped along, Anthony laughed, and…

* * *

_Nothing more than a lie_.

…Harry pulled himself out of the memories and promptly emptied his stomach over the floor, arms shaking and heart racing in his chest. He barely felt as Neville's hand came to rest between his shoulders.

"I can't do this."

The relationship Howard raised Tony to believe, and the one Harry knew should be there instead, would be way too hard to pull off. Hero-worship mixed with jealous anger never mixed well. He shut his eyes and leaned back when Neville pulled him against his chest. A cool hand came to his forehead and all Harry wanted to do was sit here forever.

"I can't do this," he said again, forcing himself not to cry the frustrated tears that desperately wanted to fall.

* * *

There were parts from chapter 5 in this mostly to show the difference between Tony's memory of the events and Howard's memory. Don't get me wrong, I am a huge fan of parental!Howard (Iron Man: Armored Adventures remains my favorite Howard ever), but I also love a Howard that is so lost in finding Steve, finding his lost experiment, that he neglects Tony.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: I don't remember when I last updated and that is sad. On the other hand, this is version number eight of this particular chapter and I still don't like it, but I needed a stepping stone between Ch. 16 and what's coming next. Still can't wait for chapter 20 oh my goodness.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

Fury wanted to introduce him to Steve Rogers once the man was cleared from medical, but Harry wanted nothing to do with the meeting. Over the secure line, Fury told him that it could be private and nobody else would know, but Harry didn't even want to try. If Rogers heard his name, and put memories to that name, then there would be expectations to conform to that Harry really didn't want to do at the moment.

Damn Howard and damn his own need to fix things. He should have just informed the authorities of Howard and Tony's death. Sure, Stane would have been in charge, but Harry believed that karma had a plan and Stane wouldn't have survived that much longer than he already did.

He rubbed a hand over the reactor, releasing and recasting the silent spell that kept it from coming out of his chest.

Fury eventually accepted his refusal to meet Rogers, but it came with a price and, if he were honest, Harry only accepted it to get Fury off the phone. Become a consultant, go talk to Ross. At least it came with an obscene paycheck that Hermione could use to fund whatever her latest charity project was.

"Jarvis? Can I get a reading?" he asked once the phone disconnected.

"_Palladium is at fifteen percent, sir._"

Harry nodded and opened a drawer to pull out another device. This would be the second one in two weeks – he wondered how long it would take to go through one a day. "Fantastic. Did we get anything from Bruce's notes?"

"_Nothing we didn't already know, sir. I am still running analysis on several theories._"

"Thanks, keep me updated."

Normally, when he changed out a burnt core (or did anything around the area), Harry didn't look at his chest. He would keep his eyes closed and do it without looking or thinking about what he was doing. Curiosity got the better of him, so he pulled his shirt up and saw his chest for the first time in nearly a month.

Black lines extended further from the reactor. Harry took in a shuddering breath and traced one of them, shivering as he realized that this was the poison. This was what Palladium was doing to his chest. Trying not to think on it further, he quickly changed things out and covered himself in several layers. It took three shirts before he couldn't see the glow through his chest anymore.

"Talk to me."

It took a second before Jarvis, good old Jarvis, answered him. "_Time remaining until you need to leave for your meeting with General Ross is twenty-eight minutes. The bar is located on the corner by your favorite Italian eatery and is the last family-owned bar in area. The owner's name is David Kindman and he dropped out of school at fifteen. The general clientele…_"

Harry closed his eyes are Jarvis continued with the bar information and then the traffic and whatever other news his computer mind could spit out. He only listened to half of it, trying to think about what to do over the other half. He had no idea what he was doing anymore, but he did know that he didn't want to go down from this. He died once already while fighting Voldemort, and he had almost died several times after that because of his own mistakes. He would rather go out doing something than wither away on a…

"Jarvis, stop. This is what we're going to do."

"_Shall I get Miss Potts on the line?_"

"What? No, she's on vacation." Harry left the bedroom, not caring if Clint or Neville were around the corner and heard him. They'd have to know anyway. "That facility in Malibu is still mostly abandoned, right?"

"_The old Stark facility has been empty since you fight with Mister Stane, sir._"

"Perfect, let the right authorities know that I plan on destroying it."

"_Sir_?"

"No arguing, Jarvis. Let's do this." The facility was one of the first built by Howard, too, so Harry would at least get some satisfaction out of destroying it. What Howard did was worse than Stane; Harry knew how Tony would have felt growing up with someone like Howard to guide him.

"_Of course, sir. Shall I inform the others?_"

"Yeah, sure. Tell Clint to get ready to go." Harry knew the archer would hate him if he went to the bar without some kind of back up. "And start getting the blue prints ready for the new suit. I still want it to come to me if I need it."

He could always try magic, but who knew what would happen if the suit wasn't being powered by his reactor when he did so? There were too many things that could go wrong and the last thing he wanted to do was go into battle with a malfunctioning suit.

Clint met him in the garage, lounging on one of the cars there. Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed a set of keys, tossing them toward the other man. "You ruin the wax, you have to drive."

"Well damn, that's so hard. Why can't Happy do this?"

"He's on vacation as well." Harry got into the passenger seat and pulled out his phone. Fury sent him the details on why he needed to talk to Ross, so he figured he might as well get caught up on it. "Jarvis, send the directions."

A screen popped up near the dashboard, showing Clint here to go. He whistled and started the car. "I love your tech."

"No, you love tear gas arrows."

"I already have tear gas arrows." Clint got comfortable in the seat before driving. "You know what would be cool?"

"A self-driving car?"

"Ooh, make me one of those, too." Clint laughed, weaving into traffic. "No, what would be cool is arrows that I can fire into a wall socket."

Harry looked up. "I'm sorry, but did you say a wall socket?"

"Yeah. Do you know how many buildings I have to break into? If I can find a wall socket, I can just stick it in there and hack in like that, no worries."

"Are you going to program it?"

Clint shrugged, turning sharply. "Show me once and I can do it. I'd rather not have to fight with your tech on that level."

"You're pathetic, Clint, and I'm not promising you anything."

Clint shrugged and pulled up to a bar that, if he hadn't been given directions to it, Harry would have never found. It was more run down than he expected, but a job was a job and he really just wanted to see the man who would try and take Bruce.

"Stay here," he told Clint before getting out of the car.

"Bring me a beer!"

Harry rolled his eyes and stepped into the dim and dingy bar. This wasn't a place he would have expected a General to be, but who was he to judge. A few of the patrons looked his way, their eyes widening as he came closer to the bar. He didn't even have to pretend to be Tony Stark as he wrinkled his nose. The wood was stained, obviously sticky in some places. He doubted the place kept clean anything.

"General," Harry said, standing next to the man. "Fancy meeting you here."

Ross burped as he sat up from his slumped position. "Come to use your weapon against me again?"

"I think once is enough, but that isn't why I'm here." Harry brushed a piece of dust off his arm. "I'm also not here to tell you that your daughter came and took Doctor Banner away. No arguing, no prodding, just came and picked him up. Shame, maybe you should have thought about that strategy."

Ross gripped his glass tightly, turning a glare on Harry. "If that isn't what you're here for, then get on with it."

Harry smirked and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe down the bar before he leaned on it. He still made a face as the suit connected with the wood, but leaning was more comfortable. "You know a man named Nick Fury?"

"Whispers." Ross pushed his empty glass away and asked for another. "He was used in some of our training examples."

"I'll make sure to tell him that. He'll be thrilled." Harry held up a hand to refuse a drink. "I'm here on his behalf, actually."

"The great Tony Stark follows orders?"

"Only when the pay is good." Harry studied his fingernails. "Believe me, my pay is very good."

Ross snorted and sipped at his next drink. "Get on with it, Mister Stark."

"I am." Something beeped on his phone and Harry quickly glanced at the message from Edwin before continuing. "Though staying in this bar in the hopes to catch Doctor Banner unaware was a bad decision. He isn't even in New York, like I said."

"Maybe I'm not after that monster."

"Good because he isn't a monster. What's your real reason, Ross?"

"I'm not going to tell you." Ross scratched at his head, the sound grating on Harry's nerves. "You tell me why a notoriously dead man sent you here."

Harry snorted. "Dead, sure."

"Stark, I'll ha-"

"I'm here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative, General. Word is that you have someone of interest that _isn't_ our good Doctor." From Edwin's message, Harry already knew a name and degree title, but he wanted to hear it from Ross. He wanted to hear that the bastard tried to recreate the Hulk. According to Fury, the World Council thought it would be a great idea for the new Hulk to join up, especially since Harry proved they could be somewhat tamed.

Harry had not agreed, but he was also here for a more personal reason. Ross needed to pay for what he had done to both Bruce and Betty over the years. He didn't care whether or not Ross joined in the end.

"Why should I give you my beast?"

"The pay is outstanding and you wouldn't need to hide yourself away in here anymore." Harry looked around the bar. "I'm pretty sure I have four diseases right now."

"You can't have him."

Harry tilted his head. "Oh really? Shield has a habit of getting what they want."

Ross gripped his glass so tight that it broke in his hands. "Not worth it."

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that." Harry pushed off the counter. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly are you going to use your beast for? If he's even alive."

_That_ got a flinch and Harry had to hold back a mix between glee and anger. Sure, Ross had nothing to use against people, but what of the man who was sacrificed?

Harry stepped closer to him. "Is he alive, Ross?" The silence was answer enough and Harry reached out to pat his shoulder. "You like this bar, Ross?"

Ross had tensed under Harry's hand, but he still managed a slight nod. "Nice and central."

"Go find a different hole to crawl into. Preferably away from me." Harry childishly sent a shock through Ross before releasing the man's shoulder and heading to the door.

"What will the great Tony Stark do now that he knows my secret lair?" Ross asked, turning on his stool.

Harry smirked, putting on his sunglasses. "I'm a superhero, Ross. It's my job to utterly destroy secret lairs." He saluted and walked out.

Clint was still waiting at the curb, seemingly oblivious as he drummed away at the steering wheel. Harry knew better than to think Clint didn't know everything about his surroundings. He got into the car and immediately took off his jacket, wrinkling his nose.

"How'd it go?"

"That place is disgusting and New York doesn't deserve to look at it."

Clint laughed, pulling back into traffic. "So we're destroying a facility in California _and_ a dinky bar in New York?"

"Ross called it his secret lair, so I think it's justified." Harry tossed the jacket in the backseat, grinning. "Remind me to get Pepper on top of that when she comes back."

"Work, work, work... That's all you do." Clint grinned at Harry and flipped off another car as they passed it. "So what now?"

"I guess back to the tower. I don't know, got any ideas that don't involve you?" Harry fought with his cufflinks before they finally came undone.

"They always involve me," he said with a laugh.

Once they were back at the tower and in the garage, Clint immediately went to where Harry kept a few spare reactors. He put in his code and opened it, taking out a few.

"Hey now, what are you doing?"

Clint hesitated before closing the safe and holding up the reactors. "I want to play around with these."

"They aren't toys."

"No, but I want to see if they can power more than your sluggish body."

Harry rolled his eyes and motioned for Clint to follow him to the lab. "Very funny. It's a small energy source, so it should be able to power almost anything."

"They'd make great cell batteries."

"Maybe." Harry shrugged and rolled up his sleeves. "You have something in your head, though. Tell me what it is."

Clint put the reactors on the table. "Your facility in California is run by one, right?"

"An old version that only powers about twenty-five percent of the electricity. Why?"

"Think we can get it to one-hundred percent? Maybe not on that place, but somewhere else?"

Harry reached out to picked up one of them. If he was going to die, it would be nice to leave behind someone that might actually be useful. Howard had obviously attempted it and Harry never tried to explore it further until he needed it, like he had back in Afghanistan. He rubbed at his chest before smiling and looking back to Clint.

"It's certainly something to look into. Come on, let's get started."

* * *

Still don't like Ross, but Harry and Clint has become my new favorite broship ever.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: So if you follow my crazy tumblr, you'll notice that I finished Chapter 20. That is how stoked I am about it, guys! I'm probably going to tweak it some after 19 is up just in case, so it won't be a double upload that day. Oh well~ And sorry for the late update again – pup had a fever and I was taking care of that.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Hermione was not happy that she returned to the tower to find Harry not in his lab, but in the sub basement. Harry and Edwin were covered in grease and dust and various other oddities that none of them could actually identify, but the old reactor had been brought in from California before that facility was demolished and they had spent the morning getting it into a somewhat stable order. Harry knew that the reactor would still only put out a little energy once they got it working, but he hoped that he could slide a bit of his magic into it and boost it a bit.

Hermione was in the middle of lecturing Harry about outputs and magical stability when Clint dropped down from the hole in the ceiling they created for various future wires. Harry immediately turned from her to accept the fast food he had sent the archer out for.

"You are impossible," she snapped. "Does the board know about this?"

"Do they have to know?"

Hermione scoffed and pointed to Clint. "This is your fault," she said before stalking off, Harry laughing as she went.

"What the hell?"

"I knew I loved her." Harry patted Clint's back. "Come on, eat with us and then I need you to crawl inside and pull out some of the debris in the center."

"Right up my ally." Clint fell back into one of the chairs. "Also, never ask me to go to another Burger King right at noon. The place was packed and the fryer broke."

Harry pulled out his food. "Sweet potato fries, Clint. There's no way to pass up these things."

"Yeah, yeah. How's the clean up going?"

"We have everything but the inside cleared," Edwin said, wiping his hands off on a towel. "We should be able to have things ready to install by the end of the day."

"Stane didn't damage this as much as we thought, so it's just replacing parts here and there. It was actually built to collapse on itself just in case, which is really neat."

"That does make sense." Clint shoved a burger into his mouth.

"I'll just need to mess with a few things not in the tower, but Iron Man can take care of that easily enough once I figure out how to work it underwater."

"I told you, it isn't that hard to transfer new ideas onto the older suits." Edwin picked at his own food. "Or figure out breathing another way."

"Yeah, you're right." Harry could always do what he had done during the Triwizard Tournament, or something one of the others did. He's didn't technically _need_ Iron Man to survive in the water. "Scuba diving sounds fun." He'd take a gauntlet just in case.

"Can I go?"

Harry laughed, tossing a rather curled fry at Clint. "No, you can't go. Stay here and make sure Edwin can still hit the keys on a keyboard."

Edwin shrugged. "I can still hit them better than you, sir."

"Harsh, Edwin, harsh." Harry smiled, though, and didn't take that to heart. He had come a long way since Afghanistan (and three times as far since Howard's death), but Edwin would probably always be smarter than him.

Jarvis beeped a warning before he spoke. "_Sir, Agent Coulson and Agent Hill are upstairs._"

Harry sighed and crumpled his wrapper. "Tell them I'll be there in a minute."

"_They are also requesting Agent Barton._"

"Probably a mission." Clint shoved the rest of his foot into his mouth before standing.

"Right. I'll be back when I can, Edwin."

The old man waved a hand at him. "Go, see what Shield wants. This can be delayed if need be."

Harry offered him a smile before following Clint to the elevator. Jarvis would have led them to his personal floors, at least, so there wouldn't be any awkward meeting in the lobby. They were silent the entire way up, not even Harry's phone went off as it typically did whenever Hermione returned from any time off. Usually it was just to ask why he hadn't touched something, but the ritual of contacting him was always there. He'd talk to her later.

"Twenty bucks says I'm in trouble," Harry said suddenly.

Clint snorted. "You're a billionaire and you don't need twenty bucks from me."

"Yeah, yeah." The doors opened and Harry stepped out. "Hill! Agent Coulson, what a pleasure."

Maria's lips quirked while Coulson stood there, frowning at them. Harry really wanted to roll his eyes because it was obvious that the Agent wanted to know all of his secrets. Harry was just glad Clint didn't tell him any. He would tell them in time, probably, but not right now.

"Fantastic day for an unscheduled meeting. What do I owe the pleasure?"

Maria motioned to the trunk by their feet, ornate and reminding Harry of his school trunk. "This has some materials you will need for the future, Mister Stark."

"What kind of materials?"

"Your father's old things." Coulson opened it, though Harry didn't dare step closer to look inside. "We believe that it can help you recover from you ailment."

"I don't need anything from Howard Stark." Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'd like you to take that and get the hell out of here."

"How did a guy that died over a decade ago have things that could help this?" Clint asked. "Jesus, how would he even know Tony would need this?"

"Director Fury doubts that this has to do much with miniaturizing the reactor. We believe it was intended for the one he recently transported here from California." Coulson reached in to pick up what looked to be a diary. "Once you complete your task, Agent Barton and I could use your help."

"Wait, is Tony in trouble?"

Maria frowned. "Why would he be in trouble?"

Clint smirked and shoved at Harry's arm a little. "You owe me a hundred bucks."

"You never took the bet." Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, Agent, but I don't need your help. Please get your kicks elsewhere."

"This is non-negotiable."

"Agent Coulson, let me speak to him alone." Maria stepped forward and motioned toward Clint. "Give him a small debrief on what Stark can't know while I take care of this."

"Information tease," Harry muttered, letting Maria take him to the other side of the room.

Maria put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you getting outside help with this? I know Banner was here, but..."

Harry shrugged her hand off. "I'm having my personal doctor look into it along with a Potion's Master back in England. Bruce's notes are still loaded into the system and I'm doing what I can. I don't see how material left behind by that man can help me with anything."

"Do you mind if I contact either one of them?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think they would feel comfortable with it, sorry."

"You do know that we're here for you for whatever you need."

"What I need is time, Maria, and that you can't really give me." Harry patted her arm and went back to Coulson and Clint. "What is it that I won't be helping you with, Agent?"

"More Norse shit," Clint muttered.

Coulson ignored him. "Director Fury would like your assistance on the Tesseract project. Your father found it in the ocean while looking for Captain Rogers and you could be a major asset to the research."

Harry laughed. "Now I really don't want to help." He looked to Clint. "You're leaving soon?"

"I've got the night to pack. I'll stay for breakfast, though."

"Thanks." Harry waved a little to Coulson and Maria. "If you'll excuse me..."

He didn't wait for a response. Harry simply turned and left the room. He thought about returning to the reactor to help Edwin, but he honestly hadn't felt like working at all. He asked Jarvis to send a message to the old man so he wouldn't worry and then went to the penthouse.

Blaise stopped him on the way out of the elevator, brow furrowed. "Why are there agents in the tower? Jarvis mentioned them when I came in."

"Business, that's it." He smiled, getting an idea. "Hey, remember when I said I had a gift for you?"

"Yeah, you told me when I was still on vacation. Are you going to give it to me now?"

Harry nodded and stepped back into the elevator. "Come on, it's in the shop."

Blaise sighed and stepped in next to him. "I'm not Barton, you know. You can't buy my affection with tech that I won't even use."

"I'm not trying to buy what I already have." Harry grinned and led Blaise off the elevator once they arrived. "Besides, I think you'll use this one."

"You think so?"

Harry went to the last panel in the wall and pushed in. He had his suits in what Clint had called giant display boxes, but they were more than that. Harry had one of his many spare reactors already infused with his magic in each box, constantly feeding each one bits of himself. They accepted both his magic and any new technology easier that way.

Before he died, he would need to figure out a way to get Blaise's magic to do the same, which was another reason to go ahead and get this over with. Blaise wouldn't even question as he messed around trying t figure it out, either.

Harry brought Blaise to a blacked-out box and told Jarvis to drop the shield. He grinned as his friend sucked in a breath and stepped closer. It wasn't much, not even painted yet, but it was clearly made for the other man. The build was bigger, allowing for Blaise to be more comfortable within it. It had more weapons and was nowhere near as sleek as Harry's, but that would just make it all the more tempting to the air force. They had been breathing down their backs for far too long.

"Is this seriously mine?"

Harry patted his back. "Yes, it's yours. I need to get it used to your magic, but this is yours."

Blaise laughed and reached a hand out to touch the glass. "Oh, Hermione is going to kill you."

"Actually, I think she might ask for her own." Something Harry wasn't sure he could do, but he would try if she asked. "Don't give her ideas."

Blaise wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. "You do that easily enough yourself. Now come on, there's a new frozen yogurt place down the road and I want to try it out."

Harry nodded and told Jarvis to replace Blaise's suit before leading the way out of the room.

* * *

Can you guess where we're heading? Oooh, I can't wait.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: This chapter did NOT want to get written, so I'm sorry it sucks so bad.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

Clint hadn't even left for twenty minutes before Fury called him. Harry glared at the ceiling (for lack of a better place to look) once Jarvis patched him through; the last thing he wanted to do was talk to Shield. Coulson hadn't been able to hold back his questions when he picked up Clint on whether or not Harry looked at the trunk and it was all he could do to stop Hermione (who had been there) from asking ridiculous questions.

He had just managed to get away from Hermione and now this. "What do you want, Fury?"

"_Coulson informed me that you haven't opened the trunk we gave you_."

Harry shrugged and went back to wiring part of the new suit casing. "Didn't see a need. I've got things handled."

"_Handled how, Stark? What is the percentage of the Palladium_?"

The monitor next to Harry flashed with a 28% and he frowned. "None of your concern, Director."

If he had the video feed on, Harry was sure the man would be scowling as he said, "_It's going to be my concern if you kneel over and die._"

"I won't die, at least not right now." Harry rubbed at his eyes. "Is there a reason you called other than to berate me for this?"

"_I did. We need you to come onto this project eventually, but since Agent Barton is out-_"

"On your orders."

"-_we will need to send someone_-"

"Are you setting e up with a babysitter?" Harry turned in his chair and clicked on the video feed so he could glare at Fury. "No."

If Fury was shocked to suddenly see Harry's face, he didn't act on it. "_I don't consider any of my Agents to be babysitters_."

"But you want to send one."

Fury's eye narrowed. "_The idea has its merits_."

"Agent Romanoff?"

"_Unavailable_."

"Top-secret spy mission?" Harry grinned as Fury's eye twitched, most likely in annoyance. "Bingo. Leave it, Director. I can take care of myself."

"_Your health says otherwise_."

"Fury?"

"_Stark_?"

"Leave me the hell alone." Harry turned the call off. "Jarvis, lock it down. Don't let anyone but family up here."

"_Accepted, sir. Full personal-level lock down commencing now._"

Harry closed his eyes and _felt_ more than anything the way the tower shut in on itself. Everything from the lab up, and now the reactor basement, would be completely locked out from anyone that Harry didn't trust completely. That left Hermione, Neville, Blaise, Edwin, and Clint – the only five people he wanted to watch his back (except for Bruce, who wasn't even around).

The last thing he wanted to do was answer to Fury and his questions about the reactor and his health. The second-to-last thing Harry wanted to do was help with the project; official Shield business was Clint's main thing, not his. His was, well, Harry wasn't sure what his was anymore, but if he was going to die soon, it wasn't going to be sitting down.

He took the rest of the day to get a few things done that he had been putting off. Contracts that needed his approval were looked over, Hermione's attached notes were taken into consideration, and he approved the ones he felt were right for the direction Hermione wanted to go. It was her company now and he had faith that Howard – the Howard he wanted to know – would appreciate where she would take it.

Her shock at seeing them done made Harry wish that he had done it sooner.

After she left with the folders, Harry took Neville up to the garden and listened as his friend broke down what was what. A mixture of Muggle and Magic , but thankfully no plants that moved and tried to kill you. When Harry asked about those, Neville laughed and brushed some dirt off his pants.

"Those are in my room," he said. "I suggest you don't go into that second closet that's attached to the room because I think the Snare's gone wild."

Harry shivered and promised that he wouldn't even go into Neville's room, let along closet.

That night, after he finished the rest of the wiring for the reactor, Harry lay on his bed and simply stared at the ceiling. He had just finished changing out the reactor, the poisoning was getting worse, but he had no idea how to stop it. How did you stop something like that? He had no weapons, both Draco and Miranda's potions weren't working any longer, and he could see the small countdown Jarvis had up next to the glaring 30% palladium-level bar. If he were lucky, he had about three weeks, with the last one being him probably just on his deathbed.

There was no Yensin to help him out of this one. Nobody that knew what he was going through, nobody to tell him that he was being an idiot. Sure, there was always going to be Edwin, but Harry doubted the old man wanted to listen to him say, "So I'm dying." No, he would need to do this alone.

Harry was tired of doing things alone and, like a blessing in disguise, the palladium bar disappeared and a picture showed up instead. Harry sat up to take a better look, confused as to why he was staring at a pile of blankets.

"Jarvis?"

His phone went off and Harry grabbed it. He opened the text from Clint, and then laughed.

_Like my new nest? I stole half the blankets from Fury's room._

Harry recognized one of the blankets as his own and he felt touched that the archer would take it with him. He sent back a message, congratulating Clint on his thievery and requesting that he didn't try to nap up wherever he was to the point where he fell out.

_Birds can fly, dumbass_, is what Clint sends back and Harry just shook his head. He figured Clint wouldn't be sleeping wherever he set himself up at, but he had hoped for that kind of response when he sent the message anyway. It was always fun to pretend, just for a moment, that everything was normal.

After that, though, Harry couldn't sleep. He knew that they would be setting up the reactor soon (tomorrow at the earliest, a week at the latest) and he would need to make sure it was completely working before things went to hell. There was also the new suit he had stashed away. There were a few things left to fix on it, especially the bracelets he had crafted for it. He wasn't sure if the system would work as it should; with his luck, it would crash through walls instead of finding a non-destructive way out.

Hermione would hate to make even more repairs to the tower, and Harry was sure she would make him do it all as punishment.

Knowing he wouldn't get sleep anyway, Harry pushed himself out of bed and went down to his lab. It didn't take long before he was elbow-deep in the bolts and wires of his suit, fixing it as he put it all back together. It would need to be tested before he actually took it out, but for now it could rest there. The bracelets were still upstairs, but testing could come later, tomorrow.

Harry glanced at the time (nine am) and wrinkled his nose. They could be tested tomorrow, then. Frist, he would get at least three hours of sleep before Hermione woke him and complained about spending all night in the lab.

Edwin was in the kitchen when he wandered through and he smiled at the old man. "Good morning."

"Up late, sir?" Edwin held up his cup, most likely filled with tea. "Something to drink?"

"I'm just going to bed, so no." Harry did grab a banana, though, hoping to hold his stomach over until he woke again. "When Hermione starts wondering where I am, can you let her know that we can do the reactor set up whenever she's ready?"

"I can do that." Edwin tilted his head. "Jarvis, did you get the message?"

Harry laughed as Jarvis repeated back the instructions. "That's cheating. I thought that would stop once Clint left."

"Your friend has the right idea and I am getting to be old."

"Never." Harry pulled his banana out of the peel. "Good night, then."

"Mister Stark?"

Harry bit off some of his food and turned. "Yes?"

"Perhaps we should fit the reactor together tonight. It would give us more time to work out anything that may go wrong."

Harry swallowed and looked away from him. "Yeah, sounds good. Once I wake up, we'll start the process."

He left before Edwin could any anything else, too afraid that it would be some kind of sentimental thing he couldn't handle.

* * *

I have chapter 20 written, but I shall post it tomorrow. I accidentally wrote it in a different tense UGH. (Those who know me on tumblr might be able to convince me to put it up sooner, though. Maybe~)


	20. Chapter 20 - Interlude

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: And so it begins.

* * *

**Chapter 20 - Interlude**

This was almost worse than when he took the job in New Mexico, almost. Selvig was at least on their side this time and Clint wanted nothing more than to get him and Tony in a room together with the Tesseract just to see what would happen. Fury wouldn't call Harry in for this right now for various weak reasons, but Clint knew better than to argue orders. According to Shield, Tony was still hostile toward them and how they ran things. Clint was honestly surprised he was so close to the billionaire.

He straightened a bit when he saw Fury come into the large dome, the director's voice echoing against the walls. Fury always did think he needed to talk louder when the space was too big. Clint also knew exactly when he was about to be called down, but like hell he was going to move until the voice in his head told him to.

Ah, yes, sometimes he liked being able to drop sentences that made him seem like he was mentally unsound. It kept the psychologists on base guessing and they hated him for it.

Sure enough, Fury asked him to report and Clint made his way down to the floor. As soon as his feet touched, Fury was on him about keeping a closer eye on things and Clint could feel the smart-ass remark want to come forward. He had been around Tony too long.

He went with "I see better from a distance" instead and that seemed to calm Fury somewhat.

"Has there been any interference?" Fury looks directly at Selvig as the man rushes to a computer and it doesn't take Clint much t know what he meant.

"He's clean, no outside contacts since he arrived." He hesitated just slightly, not sure how well this theory would go over with Fury. But, well, if Tony wasn't really Tony and there was a world not even Fury knew about, then perhaps it was possible. "If there's anything tampering it, it isn't on this end."

Clint knew this face on Fury the best, especially when it came to him. It clearly said 'you have to be shitting me' though Fury would never said that out loud. Instead, he crossed his arms and asked, "At this end?"

Clint so wished Tony were here because he would find this a little amusing. He'd text him later about it, probably. "It's a doorway into space, right? Doors open from both sides, sir."

Fury seemed to take that into consideration and Clint tried not to grin like an idiot. That was not professional, not at all. However – Clint, one; Shield's smartest scientists, zero. Even Natasha would appreciate that one.

He didn't have long for a victory before the cube sparked. Before Clint could figure out what the hell was going on, it all but exploded, pointing a beam toward the set-up Selvig had hoped to use as a exit platform when they got the cube working. The good news was that the platform idea had worked. The bad news was that instead of letting some of their people leave, it brought someone there. For an alien, he looked ridiculously human.

Something creeped into Clint's mind and he had a feeling that he had been around this person before, though that was highly impossible. The only alien being he had come close to meeting before was Thor and there hadn't been anyone around at the time. Anyone that he saw.

Clint really wished Tony were watching this and in his ear to tell him if this might be the same person. He wanted his bow, but that was locked up and out of reach. All he had was a gun and _damn_ was that uncomfortable.

Clint barely heard what Fury said, too busy staring at the man on the platform. Something was wrong, he looked exhausted and a little bit crazed. Clint saw his plan a second before anything happened and he just managed to shove Fury out of the way in time for a blast from the spear to hit a computer station right behind them.

He only had one gun, but Clint was going to make it count. As soon as he noticed the bullets bouncing off the man's armor, he stayed down and out of the way. He would have his chance, he just had to wait. He was a sniper, snipers usually did nothing _but_ wait. He eyed the man and, when the time came, he jerked up and turned to shoot him in the face.

The man caught his arm, twisting it painfully. Something changed in his face and then the man was smirking at him and Clint felt a familiar slide of _something_ go through him. Hell, this _was _the same guy, it had to be. He winced as his arm twisted further and then the man was leaning closer.

"I remember you. You have heart."

Well shit. Clint thought of four different ways to struggle out of the hold, but then the spear was against his chest and something he didn't recognize _pushed_ into him. Everything he knew about Shield, about the Starks and Harry and his friends , rushed to the front of his mind. The man, _Loki_ he now knew, smirked and Clint felt his pleasure at knowing what Clint knew.

Clint put his gun away and awaited orders. In his mind, Loki told him to pay attention to the atmosphere. They need the cube, that was priority two, only behind the need to get out of the facility. Immediately, Clint passed him codes for doors and escape routes. The tunnels would be best, faster since the building was still shaking.

Clint interrupted the banter between Fury and Loki, stepping closer to them. "Sir, Director Fury is stalling." Selvig's thoughts are added to the conversation, conversions and equations that he couldn't begin to understand flew through his mind. "This place is about to self-destruct. He means to bury us."

Fury's eyes were sad and Clint didn't completely know why he should be upset by that, but he was. "Like the pharaohs of old," he said.

More calculations and Selvig looked up. "He's right. We have about two minutes before everything implodes on itself."

"Well then..." Loki looked at Clint and then Fury is shot.

They walked out, sheer exhaustion coming from Loki and Clint immediately recognized it as heat exhaustion. Unintelligible worries crossed Clint's mind, but he didn't dare take his eyes off his task of escorting the Tesseract safely off the premises. That was okay since another Agent was there to support Loki, a hand on his back to not only hold him up, but for Loki to soak up some of his energy. The Agent was expendable and probably won't last past this stage of operations.

Loki just needed him, Selvig, and the Tesseract.

And really, the fight with Maria in the tunnels was elementary. Dodge the trucks, let Loki fire behind them, Clint covered the front. Selvig was useless, but that was to be expected in this situation. He would shine later.

It wasn't until Loki passed out in the back that something cleared enough in Clint's mind for him to know that this was _wrong_. He struggled with himself, but his body didn't do as his mind wanted. Panic settled deep in his mind and he kept driving.

* * *

Natasha was in the middle of an interrogation when the call from Coulson came. She was completely ready to ignore whatever he needed until he said three simple words: "Barton's been compromised."

Right, that always came first. Natasha took care of the goons quick enough; she already had the information she needed to do the paperwork for this and that could be taken care of on the plane.

"Where's Barton now?" she asked, frowning when Coulson admitted that he didn't know. "He's alive?" At least that answer was an hopeful affirmative.

"_There will be a phone waiting for you on your plane,_" Coulson explained. "_It'll tell you everything you need to know._"

"I see."

Coulson paused. "_We need you to talk to the big guy_."

Stark, of course. Clint's new best friend needed to know what was going on. "That's fine. I'll be at Stark-"

"_I got Stark._" Natasha froze. "_You're closer to Banner's location._"

Again? "Coulson, you can't begin to understand the relationship Stark has with-"

"_That's an order, Agent Romanoff. Sorry, came from above._"

Coulson hung up and Natasha stared at the phone for a long moment before last time she had to go get the doctor, it hadn't gone well. He might not even want to return, but she hoped that the file Coulson was going to leave her had information to convince the man. Otherwise, it would be a wasted trip.

* * *

So random apology, but Natasha might not get as big a role as she did in the film. She'll still be there and do what she does, but certain things are otherwise going to change. But I've been waiting for this chapter for AGES. YAY.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Wow, this took longer to get out than I expected, sorry.

* * *

**Chapter 2****1**

A few hours after Harry finished in the ocean, something just felt _off_. He glanced up from his late-night snack with his friends and found matching frowns on their faces; part of him was glad that he had not been the only one to feel the pulse of energy roam across the tower.

Edwin glanced to each of them before standing. "Something has happened?" he asked, picking up the dirty dishes.

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "There was a pulse of something and..."

"It's an uncomfortable feeling," Neville added. "Like something just stepped next to you and you can't see it."

"The reactor?"

Harry shook his head at Edwin's question. "No, this is magic of some kind, but it wouldn't hurt to check it. Hermione, why don't you see what you can find? Edwin and I will head to the basement."

"Sure thing." Hermione tugged on Blaise's shirt. "You're with me."

"I'll make a few calls as well." Neville gave Edwin a smile. "Thank you, it was delicious as always."

Harry waved them off and went to the elevator. "The tower is still functioning, but-"

"You can't help but be paranoid." Edwin stepped into the elevator. "I understand, Howard was the same way."

He shrugged, leaning against the back mirrors. "It was his tech, after all. I don't blame him."

"But you blame him for other things?"

"Can we not talk about this right now?"

"Of course." Edwin placed his hands behind his back. "But we will need to speak of it one day."

Harry said nothing to that, rubbing his aching chest. The core would need to be changed again soon, probably, and he really needed to back off using the suit. Jarvis had informed him, on his way back from finalizing the reactor, that the overuse was going to kill him faster. He had nothing planned for the suit at the moment, so he should be safe for another few weeks, months if he were lucky. Luck sometimes ended up on his side. Sometimes.

He stepped out of the elevator as soon as it opened, smiling at the reactor in the middle of the basement. It ran more power than he expected, which was a big plus. If he could knock it up to one-hundred percent, he could start getting into the energy business. Maybe.

"She still looks pretty good." He wrapped his hands around the bars atop the walkway, leaning a bit into the hum of the machine. "Levels are still good."

"Not even a blip when the feeling you four sensed happened." Edwin brought up a few more details on the screen next to him. "It's steady, too."

"That's good." Harry pulled out his phone, frowning. "You think it had something to do with the thing Clint's watching?"

Edwin smiled a little. "I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to check in on your friend. Mister Barton would quite enjoy an update on how the whole process went."

"You're right." Harry laughed, fingers moving across the touch screen. "I forgot I promised him an update on that."

_Hey Butterfly, how's your nest doing? Fury's wrath taken it down yet? Let me know how the big blue is coming along._

"Shall we go back upstairs?" Edwin motioned toward the elevator's open doors.

"Might as well, there's nothing else to check down here. I mean, unless you want to crawl inside."

"I would rather not." Edwin stepped inside the elevator. "I doubt the others have found something yet."

"No, but that's okay. I'm going to head to my room for a bit before checking in on them." Harry crossed his arms over his chest, hopin g to put a bit of pressure there to ease the ache. "I'll order some desert from that bakery you seem to enjoy."

Edwin laughed. "The one I get your friend's pies from?"

"Then he won't know the difference." Harry grinned as the elevator stopped on his floor. "Thanks, Edwin."

"Always a pleasure, sir."

As soon as the elevator door closed, Harry put a hand on his chest and pressed, letting out a soft moan. It would be easier to think about this whole poisoning issue if his chest didn't ache every single time the core was burnt to a crisp. Letting out a breath, he made his way to the bathroom and into his stash of reactors there.

He spent longer than he should have staring at the growing marks on his chest. When he finally pulled the reactor out and reached for the new one, there was a familiar _pop_ and Blaise came into the room. Harry froze, staring at him through the reflection, an empty hole in his chest.

"Hermione just- holy shit, Harry!"

That snapped him out of it (and his brain caught up with the pain lacing through him). With a grunt, Harry grabbed the new reactor and shoved it into his chest, twisting it fast to lock it into place. The release of tightness wasn't immediate, but he could already feel it working to fix what those precious seconds did to him. He squeezed his eyes shut as a hand came down on his shoulder, heavier than it should have been, and Blaise's warmth came fully beside him.

"What the hell were you doing?"

"Just go away, Blaise, I'm fine." Harry opened his eyes and reached for the wasted reactor.

Blaise picked it up seconds before Harry could. "Don't lie to me about it. What the hell is this?"

"They burn out sometimes, okay? It happens."

Blaise stared at him for a long moment before resting the useless thing on the counter. "I thought we were done lying to each other, Potter."

"I never said I was lying."

"Then you do a good job of hiding the truth. Does Hermione know?"

Harry pushed back from the counter. "She doesn't need to. _None_ of you need to."

Blaise put a gentle hand on Harry's back, guiding him closer. "Harry..."

As soon as his face touched Blaise's collarbone, he squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms up around him. Harry wasn't sure when the simple feel of a hug could bring him down so much, but it did and he just buried his head further against Blaise, holding on tightly. He didn't cry or sob or do anything as embarrassing, but it felt too comforting to simply step away from the display.

"You can tell us," Blaise told him, voice quiet. "You can tell me. We've been with you through thick and thin, Hermione and Neville more than I have. Don't abandon us now."

Harry finally pulled back, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "This is beyond what can be handled. I'm sorry."

"If that's truly what you think, then I should be the sorry one. You should trust me and you don't, so that's fault on me." Blaise put both hands on Harry's shoulders and shook him lightly. "You can trust us."

"I know I can, it's just..."

"Just?"

Harry wasn't sure how he could explain it, so he was more than happy when Jarvis interrupted him, letting him know that not only was Coulson here for him, but he was already in the elevator and up to the common area. Since they were a floor below that, Harry just frowned and went to take the stairs.

"Jarvis, why didn't you stop him?" he asked, taking the stairs two at a time.

"_I'm afraid I was overwritten, sir_."

"Are the others already there?"

"_Yes, sir_."

Harry nodded and opened the stairway door. Hermione and Neville were standing closer to the elevator; Hermione smiled softly at them before turning back. Edwin was nowhere to be seen, but Harry knew he was in here somewhere.

"Waiting for our guest?" The elevator doors opened and Harry let out a breath. "Who seemed to have just arrived. Agent Coulson, what can I do for you?" He glanced down at the laptop in his hand. "Ooh, consulting-"

"Save it, Stark, this is no time for jokes. We need your help." Coulson held out the laptop. "This has everything you need to know."

Harry handed it straight to Hermione. "Give this to Jarvis."

"Mister Stark-"

"Just tell me what happened, Agent." He had a bad feeling about this and, from the tenseness of both Blaise and Neville next to him, they did as well. "There's got to be a reason Fury wants me working outside of our agreed hours, to talk to me."

Coulson frowned at him and that was when Harry noticed he was shaking. "You don't have agreed hours with the Director."

Harry stepped closer and put a hand on Coulson's shoulder. "Tell me what happened."

"Barton's been compromised."

Harry glanced back to Neville, who shrugged, before looking again to Coulson. "One more time?"

Coulson motioned to where Hermione had images drawn up on the wall. The man on the far right? That's Loki. He came into our facility earlier, stole the Tesseract, and killed or controlled a few agents as he did so. Agent Barton was one of the ones taken."

"But I texted him and..." Harry pulled out his phone, staring at the screen lacking in messages. "Coulson, are you positive?"

"I am. Romanoff wanted to tell you herself, but she was unable to. My instructions were to tell you and then collect Captain Rogers." Coulson took a step back. "If you'll excuse me."

"Wait." Harry looked up at Coulson. "You said controlled, yes?" The agent nodded so Harry continued. "Unwillingly, then?" Another nod and Harry looked to his friends. "We have work to do. Thank you, Coulson.

He was going to kill this Loki, whatever or whoever he was.

* * *

I'm not in love with this chapter. And for those who didn't think Harry freaked out enough, just wait.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Further apologies for it being so late. This is mostly dialogue because I'm failing at writing lately.

* * *

**Chapter 2****2**

As soon as Coulson left, Harry had Jarvis latch onto the Shield database so he could monitor everything. There wasn't much information and their searches for all of their controlled agents plus Loki had just started, but it was more than that Harry had before. He leaned against his desk, watching the collected footage and eying the people Fury wanted on his band of misfits. He tried not to linger too long on Bruce, but he missed the man.

"We need to help," Hermione said, voice quiet. "Harry, you know we just can't stand here and hope that something happens."

"I know, but I've run into too many situations blind. I've grown since then." Harry expanded a picture of Loki, frowning. "Does this look strange to you?"

"Not really. I mean, Voldemort didn't even have a nose."

Harry turned back to Hermione and motioned her closer. "Come here, I want you to see something. I'm pretty sure I saw him before, but he looks more crazed. I just want a confirmation before I jump to things."

She pulled out her wand and pointed it at his temple. "I don't see why you can't use a pensive." Still, she performed the spell and watch the memory of the New Mexico footage. When she pulled away, she glanced back to the screen and nodded. "He's different, yeah, but that does look like the same guy."

"That's just perfect. I think I sent him after Clint, then, because of that arrow."

"Or Clint just has really bad luck." Hermione rubbed his back. "Come eat something please? Blaise is making his pasta and Neville has that soup going."

"Giving Edwin the night off?" he asked, attempting a grin.

"Edwin's looking through the rest of the Shield files."

The smile dropped. "I know, that was a-"

"I know, Harry, but you need to eat something. Shield doesn't need you to leave until tomorrow afternoon and-"

"I'm leaving once I'm done eating." He gave her another smile and went toward the kitchen.

"Harry? Harry, you've got to be kidding me." Hermione trailed after him, fists clenching. "Agent Coulson said-"

"I need to do this." Harry accepted the plate Neville handed to him. "We need to decide what we're going to do as well. I mean, there's no point in you guys just sitting here waiting for word."

"I'm going with you," Blaise decided. "I don't care what you say, I'm going to Shield."

"I need you here."

Blaise scowled, pointing his fork at Harry. "Hell no. I'm not letting you go off on your own to get killed."

"Maybe he's got a good explanation, Blaise." Neville set the pot of soup in the middle of the table before passing out the bowls. "What's your plan, Harry?"

"This Loki, he's a mage of some kind, right? The Muggles won't know what they're fighting against." Harry stabbed at his food for a bit. "We don't know where he's going to hit, so I think we should warn who we can."

"I can get in touch with the American society here," Hermione offered. "I already have a few contacts here just in case, so..."

"That sounds perfect. Just warn them that something might be coming and to be on the look out."

"I'll get started in the morning." Hermione nodded and took out her phone.

Harry turned away from her to look at Blaise and Neville. "I need-"

"What about the Muggle military?" Blaise asked. "I can get them."

"What, no more whining about wanting to come with me?"

He shrugged. "Hermione's going to have her hands busy with the wizards here and Edwin will most likely be helping you. I'll join you when I can."

"All right," Harry agreed. "I can live with that." He turned to Neville. "Think you can get the Ministry back in England to get their heads out of their asses?"

"I could try. Blaise, you think Draco would help?"

Blaise shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "There's a good chance he might and, if he can't, he knows who can. I'll write a letter you can give him."

"Portkey?" Hermione asked. "And don't give me that look, Blaise. I know you know where he is."

'Fine, I'll make a few. We each take two, but only use them in an emergency."

"Should we send one to Miranda just in case?" Harry rubbed at his chest. "I mean, if I get hurt and Draco doesn't know what to do..."

"Yeah, that's fine. Hermione can give it to her." Blaise pushed the last bite of food around his plate.

"Blaise?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

"You have ten minutes to make mine. I'm leaving now." Harry shoved the last bit of food in his mouth before standing. "Meet me in the hangers."

He didn't stop to wait for any of them, getting into the elevator and immediately telling Jarvis to let Edwin know what he was doing. He could fly to their base since the current coordinates were in the files – he figured Fury meant for that to be there for just that purpose – and deal with what needed to be done there. He had to know what happened to Clint and how he had gotten taken, the real story.

Edwin met him in the hangers and wordlessly helped him get ready. Harry smiled as his he shrunk his trunk and then sent Edwin off to express ship the electronics he was sure to need for the Tesseract. He didn't trust his magic to not affect those and would rather not shrink them. Blaise came in when Edwin left, holding the door for him.

"Got it done?" Harry asked, pulling the undershirt for the suit on.

"The closest thing I had was Hermione's necklace and Neville's watch." He held both out. "The word to activate them are the same from the war."

"That seems safe enough." Harry pulled on the necklace and then attached the watch. "Are you guys going to be okay?"

"We'll be fine, but I think I should be asking you that." Blaise crossed his arms and leaned against a table. "You'll let us know if you need anything?"

"Of course. Edwin will be in contact with me the entire time, so you have nothing to worry about."

"It's you, so I have everything to worry about." Blaise shook his head. "Go consult or save the world. Just bring Clint back in one piece, okay? He's annoying, but he grows on you."

"That's my plan." Harry stepped onto the platform to suit up. "This'll probably all blow over soon."

"When does anything you're involved in just 'blow over'?"

Harry childishly stuck out his tongue and let the faceplate snap shut. He waved to Blaise, waited until his friend backed up a bit, and then took off. "Autopilot, Jarvis," he said and let the system take over the flying. Sleeping while in the suit wasn't comfortable, but it was better than sitting there doing nothing, so he shut his eyes and let himself drift off.

It felt as if only five minutes passed before Edwin woke him. "_Sir, it seems as if Loki has been spotted in Germany. A Shield jet took off a short time ago._"

"Go ahead and follow it, then. Might as well jump right in."

"_It's not advised that you do, but I'll have the suit follow._"

"Thanks, Edwin." Harry yawned before shaking his head to wake up a bit more. "What do you know from the reports?"

"_Things I barely understand. There's a lot of astrophysics involved and-"_

"Right, keep you in my ear. Have the others left?"

"_They've gone where they need to._" Edwin paused. "_Sir, are you sure you should be doing this_?"

Harry wasn't sure, so he didn't answer that question. "Just get me to where he is, Edwin. I want to see this bastard face-to-face."

When Harry finally arrived to Germany, he feared he had gotten there too late. He saw two figures fighting while a jet hovered by and it didn't take much for him to know that the red, white, and blue outfit belonged to Captain America. This wasn't the introduction he wanted with the man (he never actually wanted to see him), but he would have to take it.

First things first, he smirked and let one of the smaller rockets fly, one used more for shock than damage. It hit Loki and sent the man (God?) stumbling back. Both Loki and Captain America looked to the air and Harry tried not to roll his eyes and he came flying in. Someone needed to teach Steve Rogers not to look away from an opponent.

"Jarvis, get me into the jet comm systems." He turned and held out a hand just as Loki lifted the spear. One blast and he fell back against the nearby steps, just as his radio hacked into the jet's. "Miss me?"

Natasha Romanoff's voice answered, and Harry was just glad that it was someone he recognized. "_Mister Stark, nice of you to come_."

Harry landed, keeping his palms up and facing the downed god. "Always a pleasure. Switch to speakers and show him all our toys." He paused as Jarvis followed the command. "Make your move, Prince Antler."

On the ground, Loki slowly lifted his hands, the armor around him disappearing. Harry frowned, not moving from his position. In his experience, mad hostile take-overs didn't have this happening. He expected a fight, not a surrender.

"Hm. Good enough. Jarvis, put it away." He lowered his arms, his various weapons disappearing back into the suit.

Captain America stepped up behind him, out of breath. Harry felt a little bad since he had basically came and took over, but the job was done and that had to be enough. Steve said his name, but Harry ignored it and stepped closer to Loki, hauling him up.

"Come on, coward. Let's take you to the happy prison cell."

Captain America frowned. "Mister Stark, I don't think-"

"Don't worry, Cap, it's not like I'm going to hurt him."

He frowned, but anything he had to say was thankfully stopped when Natasha landed the jet. Harry didn't care that he manhandled Loki toward the back and into one of the seats there. When the god put n the safety belt, however, he had to let out a small laugh. Out of everything he expected, that was not it. Once it was on, Harry tugged it a bit.

"Comfortable enough for you?"

"It will suffice." Loki settled back and held out his hands, letting Captain America cuff him. "Your hospitality is generous and I seek mercy."

Harry scowled and stomped further into the jet, resisting the urge to strangle him. "Take us up, Agent Romanoff. The sooner we get to your base, the faster your boss can get answers from him."

Natasha let out a breath and pulled the jet back up, shutting the back as she did so. "I get first shot at him, Stark."

Harry's lip quirked. "Just leave me a piece of him and we'll be fine."

The dangerous smile across her face made Harry glad that she was, for the moment, on his side.

* * *

This chapter started one way, and then I realized that it was wrong. And then I couldn't figure out how to get out of it. So here you go. Ugh.


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Hello month-long update. Sorry about this, guys, but life has been hectic. I got a new job (with normal hours!), went to Megacon to celebrate, and have been adjusting to life since then. Though now I am also getting ready to move! Finally getting out of the situation I'm in and I'm excited! But here is the next chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 2****3**

Once Harry took off the helmet, he pulled the earpiece out and settled it back into his ear so Edwin could still talk to him when needed. Once he had everything settled, he turned to Captain America and held back a smart comment about how the man made himself look so important standing there. He would need to ask Hermione if he ever stood like that because it was ridiculous.

Steve suddenly looked back at Loki, then to Harry. "I don't like it."

"What? The suit? Good, I don't think the rest of us do either." Harry turned away from him. He should have just flown back himself.

"No, Loki giving up so easily."

"Loki, who can probably hear you." Harry ignored when the god smirked, confirming that he could hear them just fine. Still, he didn't want to admit that he agreed. "As long as he gave up."

Steve scowled, sticking out his jaw as he did so. "Fury didn't tell me he was calling you in."

"Right, because Fury just tells you everything he knows." Loki laughed at that, catching their attention. Harry narrowed his eyes and asked, "What's so funny?"

"You do not tell the truth either, Sir Iron."

Harry tensed, not sure if he really wanted to know. "What do you mean?"

"I am a sorcerer and I can see the magic surrounding both of us." Loki tilted his head, smirking at him. "Tell me, were you touched before your trip to the desert or only after?"

Harry forced himself not to cover his chest, refusing to feel self-conscious about the reactor. He prayed that was what Loki spoke about. "Get that from Clint, then?"

"Barton was very forthcoming of quite a few things."

"Where the hell did you-"

"It's odd," Loki continued, interrupting Harry, "that he would think so highly of you. I expected a mage of your caliber to be stronger than this."

"Clint wouldn't know that," Harry insisted.

Loki turned his head away, shrugging once. "If you truly want to believe that, then by all means."

The jet dropped a few feet suddenly and Harry shut his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn't risk the lives of those in the jet just because Loki knew more than he expected. "Where is he?"

"Use what you have and seek him out if you dare, sorcerer."

Steve stepped closer to Harry, a frown on his face. "What is he talking about?"

"Science," Natasha said from up front. "To him, it's probably like magic."

Loki laughed, letting his head fall back. "Oh, this realm will certainly be entertaining. It's so full of secrets that none of you wish to bring forth." He looked back and Harry didn't like the amusement in his eyes. "Tell me, _Iron Man_, just how far are you willing to go to hide everything?"

"I don't know what you're-"

"You cannot lie to me." Loki smirked and settled further into his seat. "I am the God of Lies. I am the God of Trickery. And you? You have barely touched your inner potential. You know not how to control yourself despite being a God among mortals. Weak, that is what you are, and held back by constrictions that have been poured into your simple mind." He chuckled. "What a force you would be if you had been Aesir. The sorcerers of the Nine Realms would have feared you, but now they laugh."

Harry stepped forward, fists clenched tightly. "You don't have a clue about my life, Loki. Just tell me where Clint is and maybe your time here won't be too bad."

"Are you threatening to torture me? I thought you were quite past that stage of your life. Torture and prisoners."

Steve put a hand on Harry's shoulder, though Harry only noticed because it stopped him from getting closer to Loki. "We're not threatening anything. We're taking you in and-"

"You want information I have, dear Captain. Torture is the only way your people know how to get that." Loki closed his eyes. "Feel free to try it. You cannot harm me any more than what has already been done."

"I'm sure I can be creative." Harry jerked away from Steve's hand and went back to where he was supposed to sit.

He couldn't sit, though, not now. He was too nervous, too anxious about what was happening with Clint. Was he okay? Did he know everything he was doing and just couldn't help himself? He was in Germany, that Harry knew, and Jarvis got a read on his 'team' and their infiltration. He had that feed as he was racing to get there in time to do _something,_ but he was too late. He always felt late.

Harry forced himself to calm down as the ship rocked a bit, but the sudden thunder that came after it made him open his eyes. Whatever was going on, it wasn't his fault. He glanced to Steve and arched an eyebrow, but Steve was looking at him. Steve was looking at Loki.

"Scared of a little Thunder?"

Harry turned sharply to see a very worried Loki. If it were any other situation, he might have laughed at the look across the God's face, especially after he said, "I'm not overly fond of what follows."

Steve glanced toward Harry, and he shrugged. What could follow thunder but rain or more thunder? That made no sense to him. "I think he needs to go to the crazy house."

The words were barely out of his mouth when a flash of lightning struck across the front of the jet and something heavy landed on top. Even after all these years, Harry's first reaction was to reach for his wand. When his gauntlet met his metal arm, he mentally cursed himself and put on his helmet.

"Edwin, give me-"

The back door ripped open and a man dropped into the jet. Loki looked even more terrified now and Harry knew why. Despite the armor and the cape, he would recognize that face and that damn hammer anywhere.

"Thor's here, Ed, gotta go."

"_I don't think_-"

"Later, Edwin." Harry stepped closer to Thor and turned the speakers on. "Glad of you to join us."

Thor, though, didn't seem to be in a talking mood. As soon as Harry got close enough, the Thunder God swung the hammer toward his chest. One moment Harry was standing, the next he was landing right on top of Steve near the cockpit. When he got up, Thor and Loki were gone.

"That son of a bitch!" Harry pushed himself up and went for the door, more irritated now than anything else.

"Stark, we need to have a plan!"

Harry snorted and turned toward Steve, one foot already on the edge of the hole Thor left. "And you just happen to have one?"

Steve frowned, his shoulders tensing. "We don't even know who that was."

"That was Thor," Natasha supplied. Harry's respect for her went up considering she and the pilot were struggling to keep the jet flying. "An Asgardian and brother to Loki."

"Brotherly fight, then." Harry turned back to the rushing storm outside. "Last chance, Cap."

"Stark..."

"We'll do it my way, then."

Harry didn't wait for Steve to stumble out any more words, he simply jumped out. He always did hate flying in bad weather, but at least with the suit he didn't need to worry about getting wet if he forgot the spell.

"Edwin, you still there?"

"_Always, though the storm around you is making it difficult to find where Thor took Loki._"

"Not a problem." Harry dove closer to the ground. "Seems as though it's clearing. How close to the myths do you think all this Norse business is?"

"_I don't think I can answer that, sorry._"

"It's fine. I see them ahead, talk to you after this is done."

"_Don't do anything stupid._"

Harry laughed and stretched his arms out, tackling Thor at a speed he hoped the god could withstand. He threw them off the cliff Thor had landed on and right in the middle of the forest; a few trees were sacrificed in the process, but Harry didn't care at the moment.

As soon as he was standing, Harry opened the faceplate. "Let's talk about this."

Thor gripped the hammer tighter before pointing it at him. "Do not touch me again. You have no idea what you are dealing with."

Harry had a small idea, but Thor was right. He held up his hands, trying to seem peaceful. "Look, Loki-"

"Will face Aesir justice."

"Yeah, that's fine." Harry tried a smile. "As soon as he gives up the Tesseract and my friend, you can do whatever you want with him."

"I will take him now, metal man." Thor tensed for a fight.

Harry sighed and closed the faceplate. "So be it, Captain Drapes."

To be fair, the fight didn't last long. In fact, Harry didn't even have time to start it, let alone attempt to finish. He got one good blast at Thor before Captain America dropped between them, glaring at Harry before turning that look on Thor.

"That's enough!" He stepped closer to Thor. "We're on the same side, here. Why don't we try to work together before fighting?"

"Great idea, Cap. We should ask Loki that." Harry pointed to where the trickster was still watching them. That just made him suspicious. "Why hasn't he left?"

"He and I were in the middle of a discussion." Thor glanced up to the hill, then visibly took a breath. "I will go with you with my brother, but only until you get what he has taken from you. However, the Tesseract belongs on Asgard and on Asgard it will stay."

"Why don't we discuss this with Directer Fury," Captain America suggested. "You destroyed the ship, so we'll need to fly back." Harry suddenly did not like where this was headed. There was _no_ way. "Thor, right? Do you mind bringing your brother behind Iron Man and I?"

"Oh hell no. I am _not_ flying-"

"Yes you will, that's an order."

Harry bristled, wanting nothing more than to fire something at the man's head. "Nobody orders me around, Rogers, and you better remember that."

"We need to get back to-"

"I'll get Loki. No offense, Thor, but we don't trust you yet." Harry pointed at Captain America. "You hitch a ride with him. Blonds need to stick together."

He took off before either could say anything and hovered over where Loki waited. The God smirked at him and Harry sighed. This was not going to turn out well.

"Edwin, be prepared to hack into Shield. I want all the data they have on Loki and his brother."

"_Already in the process. I'm making sure to get their video feeds as well. Anything else?"_

Harry offered out a glove to Loki, glad when it was accepted. "Yeah, work on seeing the future. None of this feels right."

Loki pressed against his back and Harry held back a shiver as the God spoke; it felt as though it was brushing against his ear despite the armor between them. "Trust your instincts, young sorcerer. They might just save you."

Harry couldn't get to the Helicarrier fast enough.

* * *

Only a few more until you guys see Clint again! I can't wait!


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: Why hello fic that I haven't touched in a while. I'm so, so sorry about that. Life has been a bunch of up and downs. Moving is now up in the air, went to another con, had a social life (what?)... it's all weird.

Also someone asked and thus I shall answer. Yes Harry will find the element, but in time and not until after events of the Avengers take place (which is, time wise, over a few hours from this point anyway).

* * *

**Chapter 2****4**

Harry didn't care about Fury's talk with Loki (though he did still watch it as he took off the suit). All he cared about was Loki keeping his mouth shut because he had said too much on the jet. He hissed as the suit eased off him and frowned as he caught a look at his reflection; the lines from his chest were slowly edging out of his undershirt.

He had three cores with him, and he hoped that would be enough. He would have rather held out, but this one was giving signs and the last thing Harry wanted to do was walk into a conference weak. Taking a deep breath, he reached in and quickly changed the reactor, glad that he had at least gotten that process down fast.

Harry was just pulling on his jacket when Agent Coulson stepped into the room. Harry flashed him a smile, put in the earpiece for Edwin, and approached him. "Agent."

"Mister Stark. We didn't expect you so soon."

"Always like to make an entrance. You just can't keep away from Norse Gods, can you?"

Coulson smiled and Harry felt better to see it there. "I guess not. Shall we?"

"Lead the way."

They walked in slightly uncomfortable silence, broken only by the discussion between Loki and Fury that was being broadcast. When it got to Loki's quip on warm lights, Harry had enough. He turned to Coulson and cleared his throat.

"Do you have anything on Clint?"

The corner of Coulson's mouth twitched and that was the only indication that he was affected by this; Harry figured he would make a decent Slytherin. "Agent Barton led the attack behind the scenes. That's all we know."

"Right, okay. Damn."

"We were all hoping for more, Mister Stark. This isn't just about you."

Harry smiled as they made their way into the bridge, where everybody else seemed to be gathered. "Isn't it always?" he asked before turning to see the people Fury decided to call in.

The first person he saw was Bruce, who looked up from the feed and stared at Harry. He recognized the scared look, the one that screamed "I want to run away" - running was the last thing Harry wanted his friend to do. He didn't blame him for leaving after the Ross incident.

Harry gave Bruce a smile and immediately walked to him, ignoring the shocked looks on some of the Shield agents' faces. "Doctor Banner!"

"Mister Stark?"

Harry reached out for Bruce's hand, holding tight once he held it. "It's great to see you again. Call me Tony."

It was nice to see how Bruce visibly relaxed, a shy smile forming on his face. "Call me Bruce."

"Fabulous. Now, what are we talking about?" Harry turned to the others, avoiding looking at Captain America. "I might have missed some of it."

"We're trying to figure out why Loki needed Iridium. It was stolen last night in the chaos." The woman who said that looked stern, and a little pissed off. Harry recognized her as Maria Hill and he held back a sigh. This was the woman who knew all about him, and she had the look on her face that clearly said she was disappointed. Too bad for her.

And thank Merlin for Edwin in his ear or Harry wouldn't know what the hell she was talking about. He listened for a moment before shrugging. "Stabilizing agent."

Bruce's eyes widened and he stepped closer to the group, tapping his glasses against his chin. "Which he would only need if he intend to do major damage."

"Exactly, keeping the portal open for whatever he has planned." Harry patted Bruce's shoulder before wandering around the room.

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" Steve asked just as Edwin said the answer in his ear.

Bruce was one step ahead of him and Harry was glad he didn't need to spout out everything. "Unless he's figured out how to stabilize the Quantum Tunneling effect, he'd have to heat the cube quite a bit."

"A hundred and twenty million kelvin, yes," Harry agreed, hoping Edwin was right. "That would be enough to break through the Coulomb barrier."

"And if he could do that, he could achieve heavy-ion fusion at any reactor on the planet."

Harry stared dumbly at Bruce for half a second before Edwin snapped _arrogance_ in his ear. The smile came on and he motioned toward Bruce, looking around the room as he did so. "Finally someone who speaks English."

"Is that what just happened?" Steve asked as Fury walked into the room. Harry felt for him because, honestly, he barely understood that as well.

"Doctor Banner is here to track the cube and nothing else," Fury told them. "Stark, I was hoping you could help since you might be familiar with it."

He meant magic, and Harry knew that, but most of the people in the room didn't. "Bruce and I need to catch up anyway. Are we done here?"

"Consider this your first team briefing. Sit down, Stark."

Harry refused and simply crossed his arms over his chest, arching an eyebrow. "So let's make this as _brief_ as possible. Where do we start?"

"I'd say we start with that stick of Loki's," Steve said, turning in his chair to face Thor and Fury. "It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon."

Edwin murmured a soft, "_World War II enemy_" into his ear. Harry really needed to raise his pay. "Are you saying HYDRA was a bunch of wizards?"

Fury shot Harry a look before focusing his eye back on Steve. "I don't know about that, but it is powered by the Cube." He glanced to Natasha before looking directly to Thor. "I'd just like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

Thor furrowed his brow and, for a moment, Harry wanted to laugh as he said, "Monkeys? I do not understand-"

"I do!" And then Steve had to jump in, his face far too open for what Harry was used to in a soldier. He had a proud smile on his face as he looked around. "I... I understood that reference."

Harry didn't bother hiding how ridiculous this was. He rolled his eyes and tried to remind himself why he was here, in this 'briefing,' when there were more important things to attend to.

Now that he had Bruce again, maybe they could figure out what to do about the rapidly expanding poison in his system.

"All right, I think I've had enough of this," he said before turning to Bruce. "Shall we go find their toy now, Bruce?"

Bruce's lips quirked and Harry counted that as a victory. "Yeah, let's. I think the lab they offered me if better than yours."

"I highly doubt the truth of that, but go ahead and try to prove me wrong."

Bruce's laugh caused a few people to turn and watch them, but Harry ignored it. If they wanted to be scared of him, that was their problem. He rested a hand on Bruce's shoulder, squeezing it softly, and followed him down the corridor.

"I'm sorry," Bruce said once the door slid shut. "I know you were counting on me to stay and help, but I had to leave."

"It's okay, Bruce, I understood." Harry leaned forward, trying to give him a smile. "Did you enjoy your vacation?"

"I hardly consider it a vacation." Bruce motioned toward Harry's chest. "Open it up, I want to see how bad it is."

"To be honest, I haven't looked at it in a while. I try not to." Still, Harry pulled up on his shirt to expose his chest to Bruce. He murmured a soft spell as he did, making sure that anybody that tried to come in would suddenly want to be somewhere else.

Bruce frowned and reached out, tracing a few patterns on Harry's chest. "Does it hurt?"

"Occasionally. What's it like?"

"You seriously haven't seen it?" Harry shook his head and Bruce sighed. "You can see almost every vein extending from your heart because it's turned black. Tony... Have you even looked through my notes?"

Harry pushed the shirt down, frowning. "You know I can barely understand all of that. Edwin and I were just getting started on it before this happened."

"Well, once we get the machines set up to find their stupid Cube, we can get down to fixing you."

"I'm not that broken. I'm just-"

"Dying, Tony. You're just dying." Bruce frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to let that happen."

Harry gave him a small smile, leaning back against the nearest counter. "You can try your hardest, Bruce, but right now we need to stop Loki."

Bruce nodded, glancing toward where someone had left Loki's spear. "Something tells me that he isn't done yet despite the fact that he's here."

Silently, Harry agreed, but he didn't voice it out loud. The last thing he wanted to do was admit that he had seen Loki's kind before, he had fought Loki's kind before, and not everybody came out of that battle sane.

* * *

Clint's coming up next, guys!


	25. Chapter 25 - Interlude

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: I know this chapter jumps a bit, but I really wanted to somewhat dive into Clint's head – I have since I first saw the movie. It's not how I want it, but, well, I can make it better later.

* * *

**Chapter 2****5 - Interlude**

Clint was screaming.

Not that anybody could hear him, but he was still screaming. As he followed Loki around the abandoned cellar and told people where to put what, he was screaming. It didn't take long for the God to get more people under his touch, but there were some that seemed to have been around longer than the time he was known to be on the planet.

And equally screaming Selvig told him that Loki had been in his mind since about a week after the incident in New Mexico. Clint wanted to know more, but Loki could _hear_ them. Loki could tell when they discussed things, even within the mental cages they were trapped in.

Clint decided that screaming was the easiest way to distract Loki, so he did it often. It stopped Loki from trying to take information out of his head, like he had the first time they touched.

Shield was not going to like how much Clint had let slip. _Tony_ was not going to like it.

Something told him that Loki didn't really need him for Tony, though. He smirked like he knew and Clint didn't like that.

The idea for Iridium moved through their minds once Selvig through of it. Plans of attack and ways to get it already flew through Clint's head before he could stop himself and he hated the way Loki looked at him, victory and impatience in his eyes.

"Tell me what you need," he had said. Clint felt sick when he replied and the crazed glint returned to Loki's eyes.

It wasn't hard to do what Loki needed them to do. Clint could do this alone and part of him felt insulted that Loki had others help, but he understood. Despite the fact that Loki was in his head, Loki didn't trust him. Because there were ways to break the hold and while Loki didn't know of them, he knew they were there. So Clint went in with a team.

He came out with the same team and Iridium to see Loki fighting in the courtyard. Inside, Clint was screaming again. Telling himself to go out and help Captain America. When Tony arrived, the urge to go was twice as strong.

_Go. Go help them, you son of a bitch!_

He got into the car that would take them away.

Now that they had what they needed, it was a simple plane trip across the ocean for Selvig to power the machine. For the army to come.

Clint wanted to die.

The orders were there before Loki had even left. When he was captured, they were to continue on. Clint would leave Selvig with those that truly hated Shield (they were the most loyal), and he would take those under control and rescue him. And by rescue, Loki meant take down whatever facility Shield managed to put him into.

Clint knew the Helicarrier like the back of his hand. He was stationed there. He had a room with Natasha on the lower decks. He knew where the cat walks went, and which hallways were built specifically with the intent to lose somebody in. He knew where to fire an arrow that would cause damage. He knew where to hide for the best view of the bridge.

He knew what points Fury wasn't watching, and he knew how to get on board in the first place.

The closer they got to the Helicarrier, the more Clint felt the control Loki had over him tighten. He wasn't sure if it was time or something else, but he knew that he had to get rid of it soon. The other agents around him seemed to be a lost cause (there had been a small hint of clarity in Smith's eyes up until half an hour before), and Clint didn't want to be like them.

He wanted to cry when the request for landing came through clear. He would need to talk to Coulson and Fury about who they let run the bridge. Usually Markson did it, but he was currently sitting in the pilot's chair on the same jet Clint was on.

The entire situation was terrible and he could see the retraining schedule being written now.

Clint wanted to take all of them.

He had a job to do. _No! It was wrong!_ First he had to take down the carrier. _Stop it, Clint! _ He stepped to the edge and aimed his arrow. He didn't have the multiple tips he usually had, so this had to count. _Aim far, don't hit it!_

The explosion came exactly as it should and, for a moment, Clint had wanted to laugh. Fear ran through his chest, though that was soon followed by a gentle calmness that he hated. He was getting close.

Landing on a possible falling object was the stupidest thing a pilot could do, but that's exactly what they did. Clint had a third of the team stay behind to man the jet for Loki's return, and he took the rest of the team to an unused vent system.

If he ever got out of this, he was dead. He wasn't supposed to know these back ways and Fury was going to have his head for hiding them all.

Clint named every agent he brought down. The names soon disappeared in his memory as Loki's hold dug further.

His mind came to a small reprieve of peace when he shot at Fury, though that peace only lasted a moment. He had days where the director irritated him beyond reason, so a mix of shooting him point-blank and knocking an arrow by his face eased some of that tension.

Clint immediately felt ill after he had done it, though.

Even with his stomach in knots, it was ridiculously easy to shoot into the socket, delivering a virus some other person (not an agent) had installed.

He could hear the roar of the Hulk from his position.

He was wasting time here, he needed to move.

_No, stay! Let them take you! Let them... let them..._

He had a job to do. Clint disappeared from the rafters he had set up in while viewing the bridge. He was supposed to have two others with him, but they were dead. Brought down by Maria and Fury's pistols right before they were supposed to leave.

His mind circled around what he needed to do, alone, now. Further sabotage by removing their ability to stay in the air permanently. He was halfway down the walkway when he heard familiar footsteps behind him.

He wanted to run, to tell her to get the hell away from him. _Save yourself. Don't fall under this!_

Instead, he turned and attacked her.

They scuffed, evenly matched due to months of training together. He knew her moves just like she knew his.

Clint was slower, his mind taking too long to process things.

Never before had he been more happy to see the pole coming to his face. The ceiling as he lay on his face.

Natasha. _Natasha_. He might have even murmured her name.

Clint wanted to cry as the fist came down him, knocking him back against the ground.

_Loki_. He couldn't feel Loki. _Thank god_.

* * *

Forgot to mention it last chapter, but I have seen Iron Man 3! I was mixed the first time I saw it, felt a little better the second time, but yeah. Still not a huge fan of it? Either way, if I do decide to go past the Avengers story line with this, I don't know if I'm going to go with the IM3 line. We'll see, it's up in the air.


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer**: Tony Stark and the rest of the characters are the property of Stan Lee and Marvel Studios/Disney. Harry Potter and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning: **This fic is un-betaed and will most likely _stay_ un-betaed. There _will_ be mistakes and misspellings. There will be things that don't match up with what I wrote before (feel free to point out those mistakes). This is called writing by the seat of my pants. I lost myself as a writer, I think, by participating in fest after fest – it's time I wrote for myself again.

**Notes**: So I moved, and then I had life issues, and then Loki didn't behave at ALL. And then when he did behave, I got a cat and had to get that settled and just... no time for writing. I've had two readers though that encouraged me to get a chapter out. :) Thanks, guys.

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**Chapter 2****6**

This was probably the stupidest thing he was about to do, but Harry was getting desperate. He knew Fury would send in someone to try and get information out of Loki, and he knew he was the last person on that list, but he had to try. He had to figure out Loki's play, know where Clint was, and see if their magic might be compatible. If he were honest, it was actually a little thrilling to find someone who could do magic like this.

He let Bruce give him an injection of something (he didn't ask what) before he left. He felt better, the ache in his chest felt duller, but it was only temporary. The cube was being tracked and Bruce had time to play with his science to see if he could help Harry, and Harry had nothing else to do.

So Loki it was.

Harry came up to him as Loki was trailing his fingers across the glass on the opposite side of the cell. He didn't bother trying to be quiet, though it still disturbed him that Loki turned to smirk at him as soon as he got close enough.

"I didn't expect for them to send you."

"They didn't." Harry found a nearby chair and picked it up, carrying it up to the ledge. "I came for my own reasons."

"I've always wanted to be tortured by my own kind."

Harry tensed as he sat down, arms crossing over his chest. "What do you mean by your own kind? I'm no god."

"Perhaps not, but the same power flows through our blood." Loki stalked toward him and pressed his hand against the glass. "Admit it, you came for reasons other than finding out where Barton is."

"If I did, they're my own reasons." Harry wanted to lean back, away from the hands pressing against the glass, but he forced himself to keep still. "I just want to talk."

"Talk." Loki's hand slid off the glass and he stepped back. "Talking is not what you really want to do. I know you, I know what you can do."

"You know what you pulled from Barton's mind. Like a parasite who can't function without someone to feed off of." He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "Tell me, Loki, who did you attach yourself to before you came here? Thor? A parent?"

"I fed off of no one."

"Here I thought you were the God if Lies." Harry looked away from him, frowning. "I want to know where Barton is. And maybe I want to know how you tick."

"I am not a clock."

"It's a figure of speech." Harry shrugged. "Barton?"

"Doing his job."

"Where?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

But Loki just grinned and settled himself on a bench on the other side of the cell. "Elsewhere."

Harry narrowed his eyes and stood, stepping closer to the glass. "I can find out from you if I need to."

"_Sir,_" Edwin said in his ear, words barely a whisper, "_I've been trying to scramble the video feed, but I haven't been able to. Please remember that Shield and the others can see and hear your conversation._"

That wasn't what Harry wanted to hear and he scowled at the cameras. Within the cage, Loki laughed again, leaning back and looking relaxed. Harry wanted to shoot him or hex him or _something_ more than what he was doing now.

"My this is interesting. Are you so sure you can find out with how weak you are right now?"

"I am hardly weak." Harry took a deep breath, letting himself calm down. "Though maybe you're just talking this big because you're the weak one. Since when did a god like you need an army behind him?"

Loki gave nothing away from that statement and Harry had to admit that he might be out of his element. He could back talk to Death Eaters, and he could verbally spar with Draco, but this was worse. He was under watch here, to be who he built his life to be. Sure, Tony Stark was known to be an asshole and have snark, but Harry was too tired and too stressed to really get it out.

Talking to Loki was definitely a bad idea.

"What are your plans, Loki? To start a global war? Or to just come here and cause as much destruction as you could possibly do?"

Loki stood and walked toward Harry. His voice, when he spoke, was low and it sent a shiver down Harry's spine. "You can't begin to comprehend exactly what it is that I want. You, who has had his life handed to him. Who might have grown up wanting more, but never knew what to do with it once he had it. You who does not know how to reached out and _take_. I have taken, and in return I have had things taken from me. I merely wish to have them back."

"I don't-"

"I have lived thousands of years, you pathetic mortal, and have lost more than you can imagine."

Harry didn't doubt that and he suddenly felt very small next to Loki. "So this is a temper tantrum?"

Loki smirked. "You would know considering you have had your share of them."

"Excuse me?"

"How many died by your hand, imposter?"

Harry tensed. "I-"

"How many between the war you have already fought? How people did you have to watch die as they fought for you against an evil they didn't even dare mention?"

Harry stepped back from the cage, immediately regretting the move when Loki smirked. He squared his shoulders and tried to salvage this. "Afghanistan-."

"I am not speaking of a pathetic country that doesn't know how to play nice with its toys. I am speaking of Hogwarts."

That had been what Harry feared he was talking out, but it was different hearing the word come out of Loki's mouth. "How...?"

"I know much about you that even Barton doesn't." Loki stepped closer, trailing his fingers across the glass. "Orphaned as a baby, cherished in a world nobody but those _special_ enough to get in know about." He paused, turning to face Harry fully. "Your parents dying movements as they tried _stupidly_ to protect you."

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Loki. How the hell do you know about that?"

Loki pressed his hand completely against the glass, leaning in until his nose almost touched it. "I am the God of Mischief, you petulant boy. I am the God of Chaos and Destruction. Did you not think that I would know about my dear Lord Voldemort and his pitiful attempts at ruling the world?"

Harry stepped back again, feeling his chest constrict. This time, at least, it had nothing to do with the reactor. "You..."

Loki laughed, stepping back so it echoed around the cage. "Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Now I suppose he is the Boy Who Masquerades. Tell me, is it fun to make a play as a smithy? Do you enjoy standing there in a life that is not your own? Did my dear servant ruin you so badly that you had to flee? Was is all that bad?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Harry snapped, feeling his control slipping.

Something sparked on the control panel and Loki smirked again. "Ah, but you do. Think of what we could have accomplished together, Potter. You could have been just like him, just as twisted, but you are not. Riddle was never good enough for my following, but you..."

"Shut up."

"You are perfect." Loki pressed up against the glass again. "Join me."

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to step closer. "Fuck off, Loki. I killed Voldemort, I can kill you too."

He turned and left the room, Loki's taunting, "I highly doubt that," following him out.

Harry ran, ignoring the startled looks of Agents as he passed. Coulson came into view and he dodged down a different hallway to avoid the man. It took longer for him to get back to Bruce's lab, but it was better than having to talk to anyone.

Loki knew everything, and he had just _told everything_ to Shield. He shouldn't have gone there, shouldn't have tried to talk to someone like that. He knew Loki would be difficult to handle, especially after what was said in the jet and after his mock fight with Thor.

He leaned against the door to the lab as soon as he got there, staring wide-eyed at Bruce. "It's bad, isn't it?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"Fury's probably looking for you, yes," Bruce agreed. "You shouldn't be exerting yourself. The poison-"

"I'm fine." Harry waved him off and glanced behind him to the door. "Can we lock this?"

"Afraid not." Bruce frowned and pulled off his glasses. "At least stand with me. I doubt Fury will try too much bodily harm if you've got the Hulk with you."

"You are not hulking out on me, buddy." Still, Harry walked over to Bruce, rubbing his chest. "Okay?"

"I make no promises, but I'll try." Bruce nudged his shoulder. "Come on, let me show you something before they decide to barge in here. Edwin and I have been looking through a few things."

"Called him, didn't you?"

"I missed the old guy." Bruce smiled and handed Harry some papers.

Harry took them, glad for the direction until Fury or some other Shield agent would certainly arrive.

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Please don't get confused between this and Chapter 25! Clint has not been rescued yet in this – that will happen very soon. But I wanted to keep my little pattern I had, and I really wanted to get in his head before. So yes, right now, Clint is still flying his plane toward the Helicarrier for the fight.

Also, I think this fic will be 35 chapters.


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